It's in the Genes
by Cheryl W
Summary: Crossover Supernatural 3rd sn with Dark Angel 2nd sn -AU– It’s the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. Bunch of drama/harm/comfort scenes I wanted to see the three boys share. No slash
1. Chapter 1

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: This is set during the DA's Hello/Goodbye and SN's 3rd season prior to finale. It's AU and set in our time now, no pulse but there is a Terminal City. It really ends up being a bunch of drama and harm/comfort scenes I wanted to see the three boys share.

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Bobby sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes and let the picture he held float to the table. "Kid needs this news like he needs a hole in the head, Ellen," he said into the phone.

"Yeah, I know," true regret and worry coming across clear in Ellen's voice, "but I didn't want him in the dark."

"No, you did the right thing. Thank your source."

"My source owes Dean this and a lot more. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, Bobby. Take care of yourself and those boys." Her tone switching from anger, to motherly concern to command as she disconnected the call.

"Yeah, leave me the easy task," Bobby muttered as he hit the speed dial for Dean Winchester.

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Opening the motel door to see Bobby's usually unreadable features sparking with apprehension, Sam found his own muscles tightening up. "You made good time," he said, opening the door wider and stepping aside so Bobby could enter the motel room, his words a question all in themselves.

A question Bobby didn't answer, asked his own instead, "Where's Dean?" easily detecting that the elder Winchester wasn't in the room's small square footage.

"We didn't expect you yet tonight," Sam said in a way of reply, shutting the door and crossing over to turn the tv off, his back to Bobby.  
"Bar, right?" Bobby guessed, saw the minuscule tightening in Sam's back before it disappeared.

Turning around, Sam opened his mouth but the click of the door opening stole his attention.

Sauntering into the room, Dean gave Bobby an assessing look. "The news is that bad, huh?"

"Depends on your interpretation," Bobby hedged. "Can I sit down or do I have to do this like some ad campaign presentation?"

Pulling his left hand from behind his back, Dean brandished a whiskey bottle. "Figured if you were bringing crappy news I'ld supply the whiskey."

Bobby couldn't help but chuckle and smile, "Guess something I taught you stuck."

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Sitting around the small kitchenette table, drinks in hand, the three hunters eyed each other, a particular expression passing between the brothers before Bobby began speaking.

"Out in Seattle there was this military science program going on," Bobby's eyes slid from Dean's to Sam's and back to Dean's. Seeing no light of recognition on the topic, he continued. "They were out to make the perfect soldier through gene splicing….cloning…" his eyes holding Dean's steadily.

"Cause messing with nature always turns out so well. Like there's a large market for two headed cats," Dean sneered and Bobby nearly flinched at his cat reference.

Pulling on the brim of his hat, Bobby shuffled in his seat.

"What's this have to do with us?" Sam asked, wanting to cut through the baiting of the hook, always wanted to know the answer before the full question was asked.

"These soldiers, they look human, are human except they have enhanced speed, strength and senses. They were deployed on some of the nation's top secret missions: terrorism, kidnapping, assassinations," he listed, pointedly did not say they stopped assassinations. "Were the go-to units if the crap was hitting the fan."

"Were?" Dean asked, eyes narrowing, sensing with dread that Bobby's point was suddenly coming too fast.

"Program fell apart about three months back when the kids revolted."

"Kids? They were using kids?" Sam inquired, face taking on concern.

Turning to Sam, Bobby countered, "Raised them…bred them, engineered them. All they ever knew was Manticore."

"Manticore?" Dean repeated sharply, brow furrowing as memory surfaced, an unpleasant memory at that.

Almost wishing Dean hadn't made any connection to Manticore, Bobby slipped the file from his coat, laid it on the table, kept his hand firmly over the cover. "Name sound familiar to you?" he asked with intensity.

Dean sank back in his seat, eyes unflinchingly on Bobby's. "One of Dad's contacts….he worked there."

"Who?" Sam posed the question Bobby hadn't wanted to, his eyes on his brother's tense frame.

"Lydecker," Dean confidently supplied, his eyes never leaving Bobby's, a challenge in their now cold depths. "Tell me what any of this has to do with us. We don't clean up the government's screwed up experiments."

Bobby cringed internally, found himself defending something/someone he had previously condemned. Giving a sarcastic laugh, he charged, "I don't think saving over two hundred lives on unit missions and solo missions can be considered screwing up. His combat skills were the top in his series, and believe me that's saying a lot. Plus they never could quite break him, though they gave their best try, time and time again. But the kid wouldn't just blindly follow orders, not if they went against his own code."

"Him who?" Dean demanded, feeling at the end of his patience for Bobby's pansy footing around the real issue.

"They must have gotten some of your DNA somehow…" Bobby gently said, sliding the folder toward Dean.

"My DNA?" Dean incredulously repeated, didn't like the look of sympathy in Bobby's eyes or the implications his brain was already coming up with. Not one to back down from adversity or crappy luck, Dean flicked the file open, eyes skimming over the armed forces like report, seeing the name was listed only as "X5 -494" and "Donor unknown" where a family history would be listed. Skimmed down the achievements…and the subsequent medical bio with words like "Psy-Ops", "weakness" "high tolerance" "Emotional inconsistencies" and a list of injuries that anyone but Dean would have found inconceivable to tally up in one body.

Somehow knowing that the worst was yet to come, Dean steeled himself before he flicked the page over but his breath caught in his chest all the same. There staring up from a 8 x 10 glossy picture was a younger version of himself, sporting a hairstyle and a lighter color that he had worn at that age. Eyes flying up to Bobby's worried gaze, he bit out, "You're friggin' joking, right?"

"What?" Sam said leaning over the table trying to look at the file that had his usually unflappable brother, flustered. Dean slid the folder around, let Sam see the picture..of him…but not of him. Watched his brother's eyes widen in surprise and shoot up to his.

Both turning to Bobby, Dean groused, "I know I got a "one in a million" kind of face but having that shapeshifter and now this…_experiment_ parading around with it? Man, that's just overkill!"

"Two experim..…_soldiers_," Bobby corrected Dean and himself. "There was a second clone."

"Two! And they are really clones of Dean?!" Sam demanded, beginning to rifle through the file more closely.

"Clones, gene replicas, whatever. And the other one's dead." This earned Bobby their full attention and he could read their question. "Apparently he escaped Manticore when he was a kid but something short circuited with him and he went on a killing spree. He was killed when Manticore was tracking him to return him to the base."

"Oh, that's cheery," Dean grumbled. "So not only do I have a shapeshifter turning me into a serial killer but I also got some body counts tacked on now by my loco clone."

"According to the file, Manticore covered up the murders and so the cops never had any suspects to the crimes…until now," his last words full of meaning.

"So what, now I'm wanted in Seattle too. Heck, let's just make it all the continental United States and call it a day," Dean offhandedly shot back, sitting back in his seat as if none of it phased him.

But Sam wasn't as laid back with his brother facing the death penalty. "What evidence do they have on Dean?"

"On Dean? Besides his uncanny resemblance….nothing," Bobby answered slowly, earning him confused looks from the brothers. "On the other clone..X5-494…DNA that's a perfect match."

"So they're out hunting for this other Dean.." Sam threw a look to Dean. "I mean other clone…"

"Thanks," Dean grumbled shaking his head at Sam's lumping him in with some military experimental GI Joe drone. "So I just need to keep my head down, skip Seattle and let 'em waste their resources tracking down the other bozo."

"Don't need to track him down. He's in custody," Bobby stated, wondering where this revelation would take them. Felt the air stop in the room. "Most likely he'll get the death penalty."

Sam closed the folder, looked to Dean who was holding Bobby's gaze steadily. He winced at the raw tone of Dean's voice when he spoke.

Tapping the folder, Dean said, "This kid. He's going to take the fall for his Manson twin's actions?"

"Looks like it. Just thought you should know," Bobby tacked on, not wanting to imply Dean needed to do anything, had to take on saving any more people than he did on a regular basis. Should feel obligated to rescue this "clone" wearing his face, sporting his smirk, facing a fate that he nearly had in Baltimore.

Shooting a nervous look to Dean, Sam faced Bobby, "Thanks. We'll keep a lower profile on the west coast," his words clearly saying that he cared about protecting Dean, his brother more then he gave a crap about some scientific knockoff of Dean getting executed.

But Dean's masked expression shifted from Sam's gaze to Bobby's. "Where are they holding him?" he quietly asked.

Before Bobby could reply Sam cut in, anger and frustration and fear mixing in his tone, "Who cares Dean! Maybe this could get the heat off you for St. Louis too."

Turning dangerous eyes onto Sam, Dean growled, "So what?! I'm supposed to let more people die for me, Sam. Like Marshall Hall, Layla, _Dad_?"

"Dad made his own choice Dean! And you had no control over what happened to Marshall Hall and _Roy_ picked you over Layla," Sam thundered, hating that Dean forced himself to bare guilt that wasn't his.

"Yeah and I have a choice now, Sam. I choose to not let some kid take the fall for something he didn't do, something his evil twin did…or something I did."

"You didn't _do_ anything Dean!" Sam refuted but Dean cut in.

"You're right, I didn't. I let the shifter take away my name, away my chances of having Dean Winchester engraved on my real tombstone, of having an obit that someone might read and say, hey that's the guy that saved my life once upon a time. All that, it's gone. But this kid, he shouldn't have to pay for murders he never did…in Seattle or St. Louis."

"Dean.." Sam began like a plea because it hurt, thinking of tombstones, obituaries, the fast approaching expiration of Dean's deal.

"We're going," Dean snapped, getting up from the table and heading out the door.

Bobby watched as Sam clenched his jaw and clutched tightly to the folder as they both heard the Impala rumble to life before bounding from the parking lot. When Sam faced Bobby, fury emanated from him. "Why did you have to tell him?! You knew he wouldn't let it go!"

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TBC?

Honestly I was going to post this under DA but wasn't sure if there was an audience for it there…not sure if there's any interest here at SN..So If you're interested in hearing more, please let me know. I've learned that I can write without encouragement…but I'm not going to waste my time or anyone else's posting in a vacuum.

And those wishing I was updating "Designated Driver"… I'm working on it I promise but this plot bunny kidnapped me on my way to the race track.

Have a wonderful day!

Cheryl W.


	2. Chapter 2

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: Thanks to the people who were kind enough to show interest in the story! I'm not saying this story is one of my best efforts, it was just a story I couldn't help but slap down onto "paper". Since I'm kinda bored and lonely tonight, …here's another chapter.

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Chapter 2

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"Dean we can still walk away," Sam lowly said into his cell phone, slowing his pace toward the gate of the prison.

"And cheat you of your chance to play Public Defender Samuel Winchester, I wouldn't think of it," Dean sallied back over the phone.

"Dean I know this is personal for you but we really don't know if he _should_ be free. Yeah he might not have committed the murders but he's no innocent twenty year old kid. He's a trained soldier..assassin, if the file's correct. …" Sam tried again the argument he had waged for the past three days.

"He saved lives, Sam, and he refused to kill some of the innocent people Manticore targeted, paid a pretty hard price for his morality if you ask me. And by the time _I_ was twenty, Sam…" he broke off let silence fall a moment. "I did what I was raised to do, Sam. Same as him. And if you wrote down in black and white what I've done…well, let's just say we're not so different, this kid and me."

"You're nothing like him, Dean!" Sam refuted, angered that Dean would put himself in the same category as this "clone", this mindless assassin, this hardcore …soldier.

"Well tell you what. You go in there and break 'em out like we planned and we can see for ourselves over dinner tonight," Dean snapped back and then the connection was cut.

Cursing his brother's stubbornness and his too vulnerable heart, Sam put the phone away, walked to the gate and asked to see his client, "Alec McDowell."

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Having come face to face before with a shapeshifter wearing his brother's face, Sam was surprised to find himself blindside by the sight of the clone. He nearly stumbled into the room where the clone sat lazily in the chair, chained hands clasped calmly in his lap, a challenge in his eyes and a smirk turning up his lips and wearing a black leather jacket. So Dean and yet not, that it nearly took Sam's breath away. He flinched at the voice he remembered hearing when he was sixteen, his twenty year old _brother's_ voice before it had dropped to the low tone it was at twenty six.

"So, what? You got to college on a basketball scholarship, tore up your knee or something and said, what the heck, I'll be a lawyer, right? Just think, a year ago you were probably at the lowest percentage of your graduating class and now you're here, the only one standing between me and a lethal injection. Boy, it settles my fears just knowing you're on the job," Alec sallied because it was better than getting mad at the hand he had been dealt, at the cruel master fate was turning out to be. That apparently the one thing he had learned on his first solo mission was still true: everyone sooner or later got what they deserved.

Sam stood there, mouth hanging open, the words, the acidic tone, the nonchalant attitude; it was so like his brother's own defense mechanisms. Made him realize that if this clone died, some part of Dean that he never knew existed would die too. But hard on that thought was the knowledge of the risks Dean himself was taking right then.

Stalking over to the clone, Sam's hand struck out, wrapped around the Dean lookalike's throat, forced the younger man's head back so his eyes blazed down into the too familiar green eyes. "If you want to live, you do exactly what I tell you to do, X5-494," he growled. At the military designation, he saw the almost invisible reaction in the eyes. "Yeah, I know what you are and who you are."

"Why help me?" Alec croaked out against the pressure on his throat, wondering if "help" was the right word when he knew he might be staring at one of White's goons.

"Because my brother thinks you deserve a clean slate, shouldn't be held accountable for murders you didn't commit," Sam growled, his tone saying he wasn't in agreement on that topic.

"Your brother? Who's your brother?" Alec asked, more confused than he had been when he was picked up in the first place for the murders.

"Your DNA donor," Sam stated, holding up one of Dean's fake IDs and watching Alec's eyes reflect their surprise. Slipping the photo back in his pocket and releasing his grip on Alec's neck, Sam pulled a paperclip from his briefcase and began working on picking the handcuff lock. "He's outside, about to make it look like you did a prison break. While he's distracting them, we'll do it for real." The lock clicked open and he took the cuffs off the man's wrists, met the clone's confused, surprised look.

"Why would he put himself in danger for me?" Alec stammered, trying to play catch up with all the information hitting him at one shot. Not to mention the unthinkable: Someone, some stranger risking his life for him. It was inconceivable to someone that had been bred for survival at all costs, for someone like him who had been taught to take lives.

"He takes it personally when someone goes around wearing his face. So you want out of here or does this feel too much like Manticore, home sweet home for you to part with?" Sam goaded, earning him a glare even as the younger version of his brother came to his feet. Looking at his watch, Sam crossed to the door, knew that the clone was at his heels, coiled and ready for action. He couldn't help looking over his shoulder, studying the presence that felt only a few chords off from his own brother's presence. It earned him the same raised eye brow response from the clone that Dean would have given him.

Turning away, Sam growled, "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Alec returned, voice rising with his aggravation that came when someone looked at him like he was creeping them out.

"Act like him."

"Him who? Your brother?! I really act like him?! I mean I always thought that I'ld get some of my donor's mannerism but of course I never thought I would meet him face to face. He looks older..in the picture. That was a recent picture, right? You don't have a old guy out there impersonating me, do you? You know a geriatric version of me…" he gave a laugh at that vision.

Sam gritted his teeth, Dean had never been _this_ talkative, even drunk. "Shhhh.." he hissed, looking at his watch, hand on the door, bracing himself for action. Then the time clicked in place and he called out, "Guard, I'm done in here," and stood in front of the door, blocking the man's line of sight into the room. As the door's lock clicked open, gunshots rang out from outside and Sam took advantage of the guard's inattention. Yanking the door open, he was about to take down the guard but in a blur of motion, the clone slipped by him, punched the guard, snatched the keys and gun from the man's hands even as the guard fell unconscious to the ground.

Turning around to his "rescuer", Alec smiled smugly as he held up the gun and keys. "These might come in handy."

"We're not shooting anybody," Sam commanded, ripping the gun and the keys from the clone's unresisting grip and starting to run down the hallway.

As another round of gunfire echoed off the walls, Alec said at Sam's back, "Doesn't seem like that's their motto."

The words hiked Sam's already rocket high fears for his brother's safety to nearly debilitating levels. Before he could snap back a reply to the clone's snarky comment, the alarm claxon sounded. With steady hands, he unlocked the next gate, ran down the hall and turned right…. into a storage closet.

"This part of your plan, sharing space in a closet," Alec grumbled, standing outside the small closet, wondering if he had been rescued by someone even crazier than his twin psycho brother had been.

"Yeah, it is," Sam said, eyes on the clone as he kicked in the wall, found it give easily under his assault to reveal an old laundry chute, covered with dust and cobwebs. "Any more complaints?"

"Ah..no," Alec quickly said as he heard footsteps heading their way. He stepped into the closet, shut the door behind him, squeezed by Sam's tall frame and dove through the chute.

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"Me, getting to crawl around in a sewer, imagine my surprise," Alec sarcastically muttered, easily keeping pace with the tall Ordinary that led him, his flashlight hitting the walls and catching on the water, rats and refuse as they made their slow progress.

"Now I know why Dean says being a big brother's a pain," Sam grumbled under his breath, sloshing through the muck, no happier about the route than the clone at his back.

With his hearing, Alec easily heard the other man's words. "Dean, that's my DNA donor's name?"

Somehow taking offense at labeling Dean something as meaningless as DNA donor, Sam snapped, "He's the one who's risking his life to save yours!"

"Hey, don't freak out. I'm just trying to piece things together. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful…for the DNA or the rescue."

Sam heard sincerity in the younger man's voice and it helped ease the tension in his shoulders. "Sorry. I know that this isn't your fault, that you didn't commit the murders."

"Yeah, you said that but how do you know that? I mean you're right but the evidence…it's a pretty good frame job."

Sam stopped, turned to look at Alec, let the flashlight hit his face so he could read it clearly. "You really don't know who murdered those people," more comprehension that question.

"Ah, no. That gets us back to the frame job I mentioned," Alec reinstated, hands moving with his words.

"You …you had a twin …clone.." Sam stammered, uncertain if he was uncovering some family secret.

"Yeah, 493, Ben." And then the light went on. "Whoa, yeah? They said he went crazy but pulling teeth, murdering ten people?!" Alec whistled, "No wonder I got my butt thrown into Psy Ops for six months."

"What's Psy Ops?"

"Some place they send you so they can either break you down or break you apart. Sent me there to see if I had the loco tendencies that my twin did," Alec said, slipping by Sam, not liking the attentiveness, even the sympathy in the stranger's eyes. Spinning around, Alec asked, "You're brother, he's not mentally ..you know…challenged?" hoping to know that one branch of his family tree wasn't wacko.

"He staged a rescue of his serial killer accused genetically engineered clone from a prison using himself as a distraction. That answer your question?" Sam shot back, not liking the younger man's casual acceptance of Dean's risk at this foolish undertaking.

Again finding himself following Sam, Alec said, "Ok, I withdraw the question."

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Crawling from the sewer, Alec didn't sense any danger as the moonlight flittered into his vision. Pushing off the manhole cover, he leapt from the hole, was reaching down to help his rescuer from the sewer when a figure melted out from the darkness, a figure he hadn't detected before. Swiveling in his crouch, ready to go on the defensive or the offensive, he wasn't prepared to see the man's face as he came forward with lithe grace into the moonlight.

Having never even seen a picture of his twin, Ben, Alec wasn't prepared for the shock of seeing his face on someone else. Though the face bore more wear and tear, he was proud that it stood up to the forces of time with grace, finesse, some might say even greater handsomeness. He couldn't draw his look away as the man gave him a calm look, like it was every day he saw a clone of himself. Then his DNA donor, Dean, crouched down beside the man hole, gripped his rescuer's arm as he was climbing from the sewer.

When the two men stood, Alec stayed crouched, watched the interchange with utter fascination.

"You alright?" they simultaneously asked but there was no surprise in that occurrence, like it happened so often that they hardly noticed it anymore.

"Yeah, went off without a hitch," Sam reported and he looked to Alec, knew Dean was looking at the clone as well. He watched as Alec stood up, a look of wonder in his eyes even visible in the moonlight as he came to stand in front of Dean. "Well, Dean this is.."

But Dean cut his words off, "We'll do introductions later, over a latte or something, Sammy. Let's get out of here." And then he was stalking around the corner, toward the Impala waiting in the alley.

Sam was soon in motion, following his brother's lead. It took him a few steps to realize Alec wasn't moving. Turning around, he saw the other man was frozen in place, a vulnerability in his stance as he watched Dean walk away. Sam couldn't help wondering if he himself wore that expression before…whenever Dean left him when all he wanted was for him to stay.

Dean, standing in the open door of the Impala, called to his immobile brother and clone. "Sam! Alec! Move on, dudes."

It was enough to break Sam and Alec free of their stupor, to urge them into a fast walk to join their brother/DNA donor in the always impressive black car. As Alec claimed a seat behind Dean and Sam sank into the passenger seat, they shut their doors are the same time, like Sam and Dean have unconsciously done so many times. If either of the younger men noticed, they didn't react to it as Dean pulled the car onto the dark streets and headed out of Seattle.

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Sitting in the back of a car of two strangers who broke him from jail, one of which was his DNA donor, was not how Alec envisioned the day ending. Waking up in the jail that morning had felt like Manticore for a split second and there had been contentment and panic jumbling his nerves at once. Manticore had meant order, structure, no need to interpret, to feel, to reaction, just to do, to follow orders, to be whatever they told you to be. Even just as surely it meant no tolerance for emotions, no room for choice or failure, for individuality, no hope for freedom.

But now he didn't know what kind of situation he had been thrown into. As much as he truly was grateful for the escape, he was feeling unequipped to be faced with a man wearing his face, with two people risking their very lives…fragile, Ordinary, lives for _him_. To be sitting in a car, letting them take him wherever they chose, leaving behind Seattle…Max, Joshua. He even felt a pang at leaving behind Original Cindy, Sketch and Normal. '_Oh crap. Logan_?' he suddenly thought, surprised at adding Logan's name to the list he would maybe miss, then finding concern hitting him hard. Logan had been stricken with the virus…Max had called him to ask him to come to the hospital ,her voice worried…almost breaking.

Sliding forward in the car, he leaned over the front seat between the two brothers, "Hey I need to make a phone call. Can I borrow someone's phone?"

"We just risked our lives getting you out of prison and you're making requests now?" Sam snapped, head slipping back so his eyes pinned Alec's.

"Sam," Dean reprimanded, eyes shifting across Alec to Sam. He watched Sam hand over his phone with ill grace.

"Don't call anyone who will turn you in," Sam grumbled.

"Gee, thanks. I was going to call my parole officer," Alec smart mouthed back, sliding back on the seat and dialing Original Cindy's phone number. Calling Cindy because, calling Max right then and telling her, "Sorry I got my butt arrested for Ben's murder spree and I won't be coming to the hospital at your beck and call" wasn't the last conversation he wanted to have with Max, wasn't the way he wanted to say goodbye. '_Yeah, my leaving town will be enough of a goodbye gift for her.'_

"Hello," Original Cindy asked with trepidation at the unknown number flashing on her cell.

"Hey, it's me Alec. I'm just calling to see about Logan. Is he going to be OK?"

"Yeah, he's gonna pull through. But I'm not so sure about you. Max is beyond pissed you didn't show at the hospital last night," OC warned, harboring a soft spot for Alec, who seemed so broken and yet seemed to have a heart of gold underneath the careless jerk mask he wore.

"Yeah, 'bout that. I had my own drama. I've got to split town OC. Tell …well tell everyone goodbye for me," he asked, wondering if anyone would even give care that he was going and not coming back.

"Split town?! What trouble did you get into boy?" OC demanded, voice rising with her concern.

"Ah, you know me, always screwing up," Alec down played, felt touched at the concern in OC's voice.

"I know you always pretending things are your fault. Don't make it true. Max…Joshua…you can't just leave them," OC insisted, unable to fathom the fallout when she told Max Alec was gone because, like it or not, that girl was seriously attached to her boy. And Joshua…for him it would be like losing his little brother all over again.

"They'll hardly know I'm not around. Well take care of yourself OC," Alec bade, disconnecting the call. Sliding forward, he handed the phone back to Sam, but caught that compassionate look in the taller man's gaze again. He shied away from it, turned his inspection to the older man, his donor…in a weird scheme of things, his older brother.

"So how long have you known about me?" he asked, mind already trying to decide if he would be angry or disappointed that the man had never sought him out sooner.

"'Bout three days. Drive it took us to get here," Dean answered, his eyes on the rearview mirror catching Alec's in the moonlight.

It wasn't the answer Alec expected. It implied urgency and concern and a connection that he didn't know how to comprehend let alone how to feel about. "How did Manticore get your DNA?" And Alec felt Dean's brother, his real brother, tense, felt his eyes as they fixated on Dean's profile, like he too was waiting for the answer.

"Must have been blood," Dean answered, voice low, memories making it so.

"Blood? But how? You said Lydecker was one of Dad's contacts, worked for Manticore," Sam said, brow creasing trying to put the pieces together just like Alec.

"Colonel Lydecker was the X series commander at Manticore, in charge of our military training, our testing…mentally, physically, psychological, he did it all," there was both respect and hatred in Alec's tone, had Dean turning to meet his eyes and Alec's breath nearly caught. He could read that expression, knew it to be understanding, to be regret, to be an apology. Seemed like the man, with that look, was apologizing for the life he had lived, for the horrors he had endured, for somehow not "rescuing" him sooner…from a fate maybe not as cruel as death but with it's own tortures.

Putting together Alec's information, Sam formulated, "So Lydecker used your blood to obtain your DNA, put it to use in his experiments for the perfect super soldier." A thought churned suddenly in Sam's gut, made him ill even as he stammered out, eyes on Dean, "Dad didn't…he wouldn't have…"

Shooting Sam a reprimanding look Dean denied, "He didn't, Sam. Dad had nothing to do with Lydecker's research."

"Then how come I'm looking at a clone of you, Dean?! Maybe in Dad's twisted way…"

"I said he didn't, alright, Sammy!" Dean snapped, eyes flaring at they surged to Sam's. "I was hurt…Dad didn't have a choice but to take me to Lydecker's place. But I never went to any government building."

Sam paled because something was clicking in his head. "The possessed cougar, you got mauled," and he fought down a shiver at the memories of his Dad carrying the too still Dean in his arms, of the blood that soaked Dean's eight year old body.

Dean seemed shocked that Sam remembered it, had his look swiveling from the road to Sam and back again. "Yeah, think so. Things are kinda hazy but I remember waking up at the guy's place, Dad holding a gun on him as he gave me an injection, Dad saying something about him not using any of his twisted genetic mutations on me."

"Blood," Sam breathed, the memories sharp now. "That's what you left behind, all those rags soaked with your blood."

"He was apparently a sick enough SOB to not have any standards," Dean flatly returned, remembered the pain, the coldness, vividly remembered when he felt, for the first time, the sharp fear that he was dying.

Alec's look ping ponged between the two brothers, caught off guard by the notion of a "possessed" cougar and someone actually getting the upper hand on Colonel Lydecker enough to hold a gun on him. His experiences at Manticore left him easily able to envision an eight year old child in pain, covered in blood, to treat it as run of the mill. But looking at Sam, Alec knew that he didn't, especially when it had come to his big brother. It was a weird perspective, viewing Sam's concern for a time that was past, that couldn't be changed, that Dean had apparently survived. Had survived with only a hitch of having unknowingly provided the genetic code for not just one, but two clones.

Turning his head to fully look at Dean, Alec was going to ask about the "possessed" cougar when he noticed it, something he should have noticed from the start. He froze, counted Dean's heartbeat as it pulsed in his neck, soon was met with a raised eyebrow of inquisition from the older man.

"Ah, since you've seen this face in the mirror for the past twenty years, you wanna tell me what you find so fascinating?" Dean challenged, a little unnerved by the assessing look on the face his and yet not his.

"Where did you get hit?" Alec calmly demanded, his eyes shifting from Dean's pulse point to his unreadable eyes. But he could still guess the man's unspoken question. "Extra heightened senses," he explained with a twist of his lips, though it wasn't meant as a boast but simply a fact. "I smell blood and unless you dumped a body out of this car five minutes before you picked us up, the blood's yours."

Sam looked wide-eyed from Dean to Alec and back to Dean, worry starting to roll off him as he sat forward and turned to fully face his brother. "Dean…."

Sending a fairly tame scowl at Alec for blowing his deception, Dean drawled, eyes coming to rest on Sam. "Don't get your blood pressure up. It's just a graze, Sam."

In the dark interior, Alec sent his eyes down Dean's torso and legs, sought out the wound the older man was trying to downplay to his little brother. "Right side, just below his ribs," he supplied as he noted the blood coated fabric just peeking out from the open leather coat, knew enough about gunshot wounds to recognize one and know that it wasn't a graze, had cost the man too much blood already for a wound of that benign nature.

Not doubting Alec's announcement, Sam immediately slid closer to Dean even as he reached out, began to skim his hands over his brother's side. As his fingers touched the too familiar feel of his brother's warm, pooling, blood, they slipped down, caught on the tear in Dean's shirt…connected clumsily with the cruel rip in his brother's flesh.

Swerving the car as agony tore through him as Sam touched the bullet wound, Dean wrestled to keep the car on the road. "Crap Sam! Maybe you haven't notice but I'm driving the get away vehicle here!"

Dean's reaction told Sam more than he wanted to know about the pain his brother was in. "Pull over Dean," he commanded, pulling his hand away from Dean.

"Again! I'm driving here Sam, so we both don't end up in the same situation as mini me was just an hour ago," Dean hissed amid the pain, hands tightening around the steering wheel, eyes flickering past Alec to do a hit and run with Sam's worried yet determined look.

"How bad is it? And don't lie Dean!" Sam threatened, his only care his brother, oblivious to the third party taking in their every word and expression.

"Went right through, alright. Clean," Dean reassured.

"Yeah, clean. Good. That's just so much better than a graze," Sam sarcastically said, slumping back in his seat but his look not moving from Dean.

"Chill, Sammy. Everything's going as planned," Dean countered, gave Sam a smug smile.  
"So you getting shot, I must have missed that in the outline. Was it in the small print?" Sam sardonically challenged.

"Always a stickler for details," Dean growled back.

Alec was stunned at the back and forth banter between the two men, the honest to goodness deep concern that lay openly there, the love that was tangible between the two men…between the two _brothers_. He had never seen the like before between brothers…had seen how Rachel and her father interacted but this was different, was more complicated, felt somehow deeper than the open affection he had witnessed between the Berrisfords. And whatever pang of jealousy, of loss that he had felt watching Rachel and her father was magnified ten fold watching the two men who had risked their lives for him, who he shared similar DNA with but no true connection.

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Sam had not let him help Dean into the motel room and Dean had stubbornly not allowed Sam that same thing. Instead Alec stood by the car, watched Dean push through the pain and walk to the motel room with barely a flicker of pain in his expression or visible in his gait. Watched just as intently the way Sam jumped out of the passenger side, flew to his brother's side, put his hand on Dean's shoulder before the older man growled a warning and he withdrew it. But his big brother's attitude didn't stop Sam from pacing Dean's every slow, determined step as he walked into the motel room, or keep him from letting his hand hover at his wounded brother's back, ready to offer support if it should be needed. At the door, Sam slipped inside first, held the door open for his big brother. The gesture earned him a glare as Dean stepped by him and entered the motel room.

As the motel door slid shut on its hydraulic hinges, Alec felt a lance of abandonment shoot through him, like he had that time his unit had been ordered to leave him behind during a mission when he was wounded, when he had had to make his way home…to Manticore all on his own. He was startled to realize he wanted to be accepted by these particular Ordinaries, wanted to be a part of whatever they had between them, wanted to belong more strongly than he had ever let himself want to before. "Guess I'm on my own," he said aloud with a smirk, like it didn't matter that there was bitter loneliness coiling in his gut.

But before he could move from the car, the motel room door swung open and Sam stood in the doorway, was throwing something his way. Easily snagging the car keys in the air, he cocked an eyebrow at Sam.

"Grab the first aid kit from the trunk and get in here," Sam ordered urgently, no trace of anger or blame or worry in his dark eyes.

Blurring to the trunk, snagging the first aid kit, closing the trunk and coming to Sam's side in only seconds, Alec slowed down to saunter across the room's threshold. But he nearly came up short at the sight of Dean lying on the bed, his shirt off, the cruel hole in the flesh of his side drowning in blood. '_This is because of me! He's hurt because of me_!' And his wide, scared, guilty eyes met Dean's pained green ones.

Sam read Alec's expression so simply it suddenly didn't seem like Alec bore any resemblance to Dean. Dean had always worn his emotions close to the vest. It had taken Sam nearly twenty three years to find ways to slip past his barriers, to read the look in his eyes, to interpret the signs in his body language. But Alec…he didn't wear his mask as well, didn't know how to maintain it when everything he knew was being questioned, changed, threatened. Compassion again flared in Sam for the younger man. Glancing at Dean, he read the same look in his brother's eyes. Gently taking the kit from Alec's seemingly nerveless grip, Sam crossed to the bed he had manhandled Dean to lay down on.

Taking a seat at Dean's hip, Sam's eyes held Dean's for a moment before he looked at the wound. He grimaced when he truly wanted to curse and scream and rail against the pain and suffering his brother always had to bear. Pulling a sterile pad from the kit, with an apologetic look to Dean, he pressed it against the wound, gritted his teeth at Dean's groan at the agony he was inflicting.

Forcing himself to step forward, to accept responsibility for the pain he had brought onto Dean, Alec quietly announced, "I'm a trained field medic. I could…"

"I got it," Sam cut him off, cringing internally at the notion of someone else taking care of Dean, of putting his brother's life in the hands of this _stranger._

Though his words came out pained and breathless, Dean offered a small smirk up to Alec, "Don't take it personally. Sammy has mama bear tendencies."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black Dean," Sam groused but there was no malice in his tone, was filled instead with affection. Turning to look at Alec, he said, "Can you boil some water so I can sterilize the instruments?"

"Yeah," Alec instantly replied and was quickly crossing over to the kitchen, finding a pot from one of the cupboards, glad to be able to help even in that small way.

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An hour later, Alec, mindless of the blood staining his grey sweater, sat at the kitchen table, his focus shifting from the lap top to the wounded man lying on the far bed. He could hear the sound of Sam's shower water coming from the bathroom, was honestly surprised that Sam had left him alone with his brother even at Dean's prompting. It felt like both Dean and Sam were giving him a trust he didn't deserve.

Watching Sam treat his brother's wound, it discredited everything Alec thought he knew about humans, about ordinaries, about their tolerance for pain…and capacity for kindness. Sam's every action had been gentle, had been undertaken with care, his eyes flickering to his brother's had numerous times begged for forgiveness for the inflicted pain, and Dean had given his absolution time and time again, had offered up his own consolations to Sam. "I'm alright Sammy." "Your steady hands would have been wasted talent if you truly turned lawyer, you know that." "I'm Ok," Dean had reassured after a grunt of pain escaped him and Sam's voice cracked with his apology. And Sam had given his own litany of promises to Dean. "I'm almost done, Dean." "The pain killer should kick in soon." "I promise I'm making the stitches small so you can still do your GQ shirtless spread."

For Alec it had felt like he was watching the boob tube, was watching some family show that was out of touch with reality, with the reality he had known. Showed him the impossible: that compassion, caring, love didn't have to mean being weak, vulnerable, meant instead that you had a strength beyond your own, had someone backing you up, willing to even fight your battles for you. That being tough wasn't about enduring pain, cutting yourself off from what could hurt you. Instead it was about sheltering others from pain even in the face of your own agony, of putting others before yourself when you were so ready to break apart. It was about being strong not for yourself but for others, for the ones you loved.

Now as he watched Dean shift, saw a pained expression mar the wounded man's features, Alec tensed, worried that Dean was getting worse instead of better. He froze as Dean's eyes slowly opened, blinked and then focused on him across the room.

"Hey, you OK? You need something?" Alec asked, his voice coming out gentle, quiet as it carried across the room to Dean.

"Drink," Dean croaked, tried to swallow down his cough but failed. Groaning as the cough ripped from him, he pressed his hand against his wound, felt the air evaporate from his lungs. He was startled when gentle, strong hands were suddenly bracing his neck and sliding under his back. Then he was carefully shifted, like he was little more than a child, onto his unwounded side so he could draw in a decent breath. He felt the bed sink as Alec sat at his back, felt the younger man slid his hand up to rest between his shoulder blades. When the younger man's hand gave a little pinpoint of pressure on his back, it helped to dispel the linger hold of the cough. Though his eyes were closed, Dean felt the younger man's attention upon his face, felt it like he would feel Sam's inspecting, worried gaze.

"I'm alright," Dean reassured, his voice so husky it made a mockery of his words.

Alec didn't dispute the man's declaration, simply moved his hand higher, rubbed at another pressure point. "I know this is coming a little late but thanks for saving my butt. And I really am sorry you got…hurt," his voice catching on the word. It seemed so inadequate to describe the pain the other man had endured just because he chose to help him.

"All in a day's work," Dean breathed out, opening his eyes and shooting Alec a cocky but pale smirk over his shoulder.

"Yeah, huh? So rescuing your transgenic clone from jail is just run of the mill for you?" Alec lightly challenged.

Dean smirked and let his eyes fall shut again, "It's pretty tame on the scale of things we do, trust me."

Alec shook his head at the man's nonchalant attitude to all the craziness. Standing up he crossed back over to the kitchen, retrieved the drink he was pouring when Dean's cough had alarmed him enough to abandon it to get to the wounded man's side. Crossing back over to the bed, he came around to the side Dean now faced, sat down there as Dean's eyes again held his. "Take small swallows," he cautioned as he slid his hand under Dean's head and lifted it gently as he tipped the glass against the man's lips.

All too familiar with the need to not guzzle down water after motel room surgery, Dean sipped a little water and then let Alec reposition his head back on the pillow, eyes not leaving Alec's.

"You two do seem used to performing field medical treatments. Do I even want to know what you two meant by a "possessed" cougar?"

"Let's just say, you had your training and Sam and I had ours," Dean vaguely replied, tried to shift and only ended up grunting in annoyance at the pain.

Wrapping one hand around Dean's forearm and placing the other against Dean's chest, Alec soothed, "Easy. I can help you move onto your back." But then hesitancy flew into Alec's eyes as he met Dean's. "I mean, if you want me to."

Dean watched as Alec's head suddenly swiveled around as he finally realized that Sam had opened the bathroom door, was standing there, a silent observer to the younger man's gentle treatment of him. If there was one way the younger version of himself could win Sammy over, Dean knew this was it: Taking care of him, having his back, acting like Sam himself would in that same position.

"He needed a drink," Alec quickly explained, eyes meeting Sam's. But he was reluctant to stand up, to jar Dean, to remove his support to the wounded man.

Sam nodded his head, said "Kay" and casually walked to the other bed, dug socks out of his bag as his eyes skittered back to Dean and Alec. When he had first opened the bathroom door and saw Alec sitting beside Dean, he almost leapt forward to separate them, to pull Alec away from his too vulnerable brother's side. But Alec's concerned words to Dean, his gentle touch on Dean's abused body stopped him in his tracks. Made him see that Alec would not be using whatever speed and strength he had against Dean, was in fact using his genetic enhancements and medical training to help Dean.

Facing Dean again, Alec bent his head down to be more eye level with Dean. "You OK, you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good," Dean mumbled, eyes sliding closed even as he spoke.

Unable to still his panic, Alec had his fingers flying to Dean's pulse in his neck, was only able to take in a breath when he felt the steady heartbeat under his touch. He looked up from Dean to Sam, saw the tension in Dean's brother's stance. "Heart rate's strong and steady."

Drawing in a relieved breath, Sam nodded. "Shower's yours."

Nodding, Alec, with one final look at Dean, stood up, started heading toward the bathroom, stopped as Sam called.

"Alec," Sam said quietly, earning the younger man's attention as he tossed some of Dean's clothing at him. Alec easily caught the articles of clothing but Sam wasn't expecting the surprised look in the green eyes.

It was the first time Sam had called him by name and that was just another layer of trust. Then the offering of what was apparently Dean's clothing?! It was so unexpected that he stumbled to a stop. Were the two of them actually willing to let him parade around looking even more like Dean?! Alec's eyes unconsciously shifted to Dean, wondered what the other man would say about his brother's gesture.

Sam caught Alec looking to Dean as if the clone wished for some sign of approval from Dean. "Trust me, his ego can handle the competition," he joked, a smile turning up his lips.

Alec, however, didn't smile, instead he looked like a young kid, like a twenty year old kid that had been sheltered and abused and taught that kindness was to be mistrusted.

"Seriously, I'm not going to let you keep wearing that sweater stained with Dean's blood. You can take some of my clothing if you want but you've honestly got to change," Sam gently taunted, put a smile on his face. And he prayed Alec didn't know how much he meant the words, how much he didn't want to be reminded of Dean's vulnerability, of Dean hurting, of the cruel knowledge that Dean was fragile, could be stolen away from him…would be in a few months if he didn't break the deal. The thought had his eyes going to Dean's pale but peaceful face, of the blessed sight of his brother, alive and with him.

Seeing Sam's focus shift to Dean, Alec felt something in his chest tighten at the expression on Sam's face. He almost asked Sam if he was OK before he caught himself, realized that he didn't belong here, between them. Clutching possessively onto the clothing in his hands, onto the small connection to the brothers that he had been afforded, Alec quietly said, "Nah, these are fine," and he slipped into the bathroom.

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Tbc?

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Thanks for anyone out there reading and I really would like to know if you're enjoying the story.

Have a wonderful evening!

Cheryl W.


	3. Chapter 3

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: I am truly blessed by the support for this story! It's really bowled me over and made me smile!! Thanks for everyone for reading and reviewing! I really hope you continue to like the little scenes I've put together.

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Chapter 3

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Sleeping on the floor hadn't done even Alec's transgenic back any favors, so he greeted the cell phone wake up call that ended his misery almost with gladness. Sitting up, he saw Sam hurriedly snatch the phone from the nightstand and knew that Sam hadn't been asleep, had spent the night doing what he had been doing when Alec sacked out: watching over his brother.

Sam gave a quiet greeting of "Yeah," started to walk from the room but halted as he gave a backwards worried glance to Dean. Alec was surprised when Sam's eyes alighted on him, were asking him something even as Sam spoke into the cell phone. "Yeah we handled it."

Realizing that Sam expected him to watch out for his brother, Alec nodded and Sam left the room almost instantly at his agreement. Climbing to his feet, he stood at the end of Dean's bed, watched the man's chest rise and fall in steady healthy rhyme and felt this own breathing fall back into normal pacing. Running a hand through his hair, he wondered if this was what life out here was, always worrying about the fragile ordinaries he dared to care about.. knowing that he wasn't going to be fast enough, strong enough or smart enough to always protect them…like he hadn't protected Rachel. That sometimes they got hurt, got killed because of him, because of what he was.

His words to Max about them associating with Ordinaries replayed in his head, "_I'm trying to do the right thing. We don't belong with them, OK. We're a danger to them. When are you finally going to see that." _His head snapped left as Sam reentered the room, gave him a look he couldn't interpret before he spoke.

"You're a hotter collar than we thought. There were government agents investigating the break out. Thought Manticore didn't exist anymore, that there were no more Feds to track you down," Sam probed, a hint of accusation in his eyes as they met the so familiar green ones.

Turning to face Sam, Alec admitted, "Seems we traded up. Manticore wanted to use us but this new agency, headed by this guy White… he just wants to kill us." '_Or let heartless bastards like me go and kill some of our own just to survive.' _"I'll lead him away from you guys," he stated matter of factly, beginning to head for the door, unable to bear even the thought of bringing a merciless killer like White to Dean and Sam's door.

Unprepared for Alec's reaction, or his own at the thought of watching the younger man walk out the door, Sam stepped into Alec's path, held up his hands. "Whoa. We're not asking you to leave."

"It's too dangerous for Dean with White on my trail. If White thinks for an instant that Dean's me…that he's a transgenic…" Alec's breath caught in his throat at the horrific thought. "If he thinks Dean has my strength, my speed…he'll kill him without even meaning to, Sam." Knocking Sam's shoulder in his haste to slip past the taller man, Alec headed for the door. Dean's voice stopped him, hand on the doorknob.

"I don't scare so easily," Dean drawled, sitting up, hand bracing his bandaged wound as his eyes rested on Alec's back. "Didn't think you did either," and there was a challenge in his words that had Alec swiveling around, fire in his eyes.

"This isn't about me, this is about you, both of you. People die around me…"Alec began, needing them to understand that their connection had to end now.

"Trust me when I say we both understand that," Sam cut in and Alec's eyes met his, saw a layer of anguish he hadn't been privy to before. "I've tried to cut myself off, to go it alone to protect myself, to protect Dean but, being apart from the people you care about, it just hurts worse, man.'

Dean stared at Sam a moment, taken back by this brother's admission, felt his chest tighten in affection, knew Sam was speaking the truth. As Dean pushed himself to his feet, Sam flew across the room and slipped his arm around his waist before Dean could even register how dizzy he was. Stubbornly Dean faced Alec. "I didn't take a bullet to save you so you could make yourself bait for some task force."

"Dean.." Alec began in entreaty.

"I'm on the Fed's most wanted list," Dean blurted out. He gave Sam's chest a pat, "Even this baby faced boy is topping their list. And we have some heavy duty foes that make the Feds and your White guy look like Saturday afternoon cartoon characters. If anyone is putting anyone else in danger, it's us putting you in danger. But I figure we should stay together right now until we're out from under the Seattle cops' radar and your White guy's net. You know, watch each other's backs."

Alec stood there, overwhelmed by Dean's invitation to stay with them. No one had ever asked him to stay, had always asked him to go and don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Taking the younger man's silence as indecision, Sam added, "Thing is, you're just as likely to get picked up for Dean's murder charges as you are for your Manticore twin's."

"Murder charges?" Alec repeated, eyebrow raised, not believing for a minute that Dean was a cold blooded murder.

"Creature that can change his looks decided it would be fun to look like me when he went on a killing spree," Dean grunted out.

Alec stilled, putting the pieces together lightening fast. "That's why you helped me break out, wasn't it? You didn't want the same thing happening to me."

Dean managed a shrug, "I don't know about you but I got enough things I'm not proud of, I don't need to take on the punishment of crimes I didn't commit."

"Yeah, it's not high on my to-do list either," Alec drawled, felt the kinship he felt to Dean grow stronger, felt a little scared at how much he was letting these people, these strangers slip through his guard. Retreating back to his standard defense mechanic, he smiled, rubbed his hands together and pulled on his smart alec persona. "So, does this mean I get to take my turn driving the car?"

"No!" came sharply from the Winchester brothers.

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"Hold still," Dean growled, trying to wipe the blood off of Alec's temple.

"You didn't tell me ghosts could move faster than I could," Alec grumbled, wincing as the cut on his temple was treated.

Dean smirked to Sam, who taunted affectionately, "So much for your super sonic speed being an asset to our team."

"Shut up," Alec returned, having easily picked up Dean's habits in the two weeks they had been together.

"Dude, you should have seen the look on your face when the ghost got to the door before you did!" Dean laughed.

"Hey I saved you from getting tossed off the third story scaffolding. You weren't mocking my speed then," Alec countered, remembered the close call, the way he had barely gotten there in time to latch onto the collar of Dean's leather jacket as the older Winchester got heave hoed off the scaffolding.

"Well, you owed me one," Dean grumbled.

"Yeah, more than one," Alec solemnly said, eyes on Dean then shifting to Sam. He knew his gratitude and his debt had more to do with the two men's acceptance of him, of letting him be part of their world, their partnership than the fact that they had broken him out of jail, were helping him elude White. Way more.

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The glass slipped from Alec's grasp and shattered on the tile floor, had Sam exiting the bathroom, a worried look in his eyes as they landed on the younger man.

Alec gave Sam a smile, "Sorry, I zigged when I should have zagged," but the tremor jerked his body a moment later, dispelling his charade.

Instantly Sam crossed over to Alec. "What's wrong?!" Sam worriedly demanded as he gripped the transgenic's shoulders as another wave of seizures coursed through him. When Alec started to slump to the ground, he called out in fear "Alec!" as he stepped forward, took the younger man's weight into his hold.

Falling against Sam's chest, his body threatening to jerk apart, Alec moaned as pain lanced up from the base of his neck, made him remember White's time bomb that had once been there, felt like it was there now. He registered Sam's arms coming around him, holding him even as he was gently lowered to the ground until he and Sam were both on their knees. Felt Sam's hand at the base of his neck, the light pressure easing his pain instead of increasing it.

"Alec, what's wrong? What can I do?" Sam breathed, feeling useless as he held the younger man against his chest even as Alec nearly thrashed in his arms.

"Milk.." Alec choked out, wondering if his words had even reached Sam.

Having dealt with too many weird occurrences in his life, Sam didn't even question it. "Ok, just hold on," he urgently bade, hated to put Alec down but knew he had to in order to cross the distance to the small refrigerator. Gently he eased Alec's quaking body to the ground, reluctantly slid his hands away but not before he cupped the younger man's cheek, gained eye contact. "It's going to be alright." Seeing the trust in the pained green eyes, it spurred him on even as it terrified him. He wasn't used to this responsibility, of being the big brother.

Standing up, he ran to the refrigerator, pulled out the milk, quickly sloshed it into a glass before he ran back to kneel beside Alec. Sliding a hand under Alec's back, he shifted the man up until he rested half on his knees and half on his chest and tipped the glass to his mouth, felt fear and frustration when Alec's jerks only allowed some of the milk to slide down the genetically enhanced young man's throat. When the glass was empty, Sam offered, "I can get more.." and he made only the slightest move to shift Alec again to the floor when Alec's trembling hand latched onto his.

"Stay.." Alec croaked out, desperate for Sam's presence even as he was humiliated by his weakness. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't see the disgust in the older man's eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Alec. I'm staying right here," Sam soothed, squeezed the hand in his grip, felt so protective of the younger man in that moment that his chest hurt. In a small measure he understood, for the first time, what drove Dean all those years to protect him, to risk everything he was just to ensure his little brother was safe…was happy. "You're not alone, man."

Alone. It was how Alec had felt his whole life, even surrounded 24/7 by a barracks of other transgenics. Had told himself that he preferred to be in the outside of the tight knit groups looking in, that it didn't matter that Max resented when he hung out with her friends. But Sam's words suddenly eased a searing hole in him that he never had acknowledged before. Knew that, out of all the people in the world, even those from Manticore, Sam and Dean were the only ones who had ever just accepted him for who he was, what he was, didn't try to change him.

And they hadn't even looked at him in disgust when he told them about being captured by White and the deal he had made to try and save his own life. Instead a look passed between the brothers, not condemnation but sympathy, understanding, sorrow where he expected condemnation. Dean had looked him straight in the eye and said, "Deals, that's something I know about." But at Dean's words, Sam had jerked out of his chair, stalked out of the room and Dean had quietly said, "Sam's mad at me, not you, Alec."

That had been the first real sign of true dissention between the brothers and Alec was surprised to feel …unnerved, even scared by it. As if he were a kid, hearing his parents arguing, threatening the happy, secure world he knew. "He can't stay mad at you," he had stated to Dean, unable to conceive of anything capable of separating the bond between the two men. But as Dean clenched his jaw and looked away, Alec had protested, "Dean..he wouldn't. Come on man, Sam loves you too much to stay mad at you."

Dean's head had swiveled around to him so quickly that Alec had worried that he had said the wrong thing. Somehow he never caught onto the fact that the word "love", it just wasn't said in the Winchester world. It was so obviously shown every day, he didn't think it was a secret, was something that was never verbalized. "I'm sorry. This is none of my business.." he had stammered, felt stupid for crossing the line, for thinking he had a right to talk about the relationship the brothers shared, had a right to witness their pain, to sit there and think he belonged with them. He stood up to leave then, to maybe not return but Dean spoke first.

"What I did….he doesn't agree with it," Dean had quietly confessed, eyes on Alec as the younger man stood looking at him, a concerned look in his eyes that he didn't have enough experience to conceal. "Probably won't ever agree with it but he knows I wouldn't undo it." Dean smiled but it was bitter sweet. "Heck, he can be as mad as he likes as long as he doesn't do something to undo what I did. As long as he doesn't _go anywhere_," and his voice cracked on the last two words, had Alec wanting to do whatever he could to ease the older man's obvious hurt.

"He's not going anywhere, Dean. Not without you," Alec had reassured, knew it was the truth, could see it in Sam's expression as he watched his brother like his presence was a gift…a gift he was afraid would be taken away from him.

Dean had only nodded though. But a moment later, he stood up, caught Alec in a headlock, gave him a duck rub and said, "I'm starving, Dude. It's time for you to use your super nose and sniff out a place to eat supper when Sammy returns."

Now, sitting on the floor, leaning against the cupboards with Sam at his side, Alec felt the tremors begin to taper off but he could still feel the worried gaze of the younger Winchester on him. Rolling his head tiredly, he met Sam's gaze, couldn't find the strength or the desire to be "always alright". Instead he drew in a breath and told Sam about the glitch in the X series, about their need for Tryptophan to keep them running smoothly. It didn't really come as a surprise to Alec when there was no condemnation in Sam's eyes or even pity, just worry. He was starting to finally understand the depths of these men he had come to call friends.

"And Tryptophan is in milk, I got that. But can't you take it straight, get pills of just that?" Sam gently asked, sensing the vulnerability in the usually seemingly invincible younger man.

"Yeah, but they aren't cheap," Alec replied, running a hand through his hair as he bowed his head, determined to not be a liability to the partnership he had been allowed to breach. He knew he wasn't pulling his financial weight. As it stood, he was already draining Dean's meager cashflow, being another mouth to feed, costing them more for the rollaway bed in the motels, needing clothing when blood and hunting decimated his. It was frustrating, after all the money that had passed so easily in his hands to suddenly be unable to raise some cash. But, since they were always on the go, his usual cash making scams didn't work and keeping a low profile AND trying to make quick money wasn't an easy task, was nearly impossible. And the rest of his previous tactics for making money…they weren't options, not anymore, not when he felt sick at the thought of what Dean or Sam's reactions would be. The Winchesters didn't _hurt_ people for their advantage, would never stoop to stealing or selling steroids or medicine on the black market for their personal gain. They were better men than he could ever dream to be, were better men than Manticore led him to believe existed in the world.

"Alec.." Sam began in a gentle, frustrated sigh at Alec's selflessness.

Dean chose that moment to walk into the room, causing both men to looked up at him, startled.

Dean stopped as he noted his two younger partners on the floor, milk and shattered glass littering the tile. He was used to Sam's visions but instantly knew by the color of his brother's face compared to Alec's, which sibling had initiated the whole, down-on-the-filthy-floor-of-a-motel action. "What happened?" he worriedly demanded, coming to crouch in front of Alec, eyes boring into the younger man's.

"Nothing, I'm alright," Alec tried, smile in place but knew by Dean's set look that his lie wasn't even making it out of the gate.

"Un huh," Dean muttered, his breath quickening as he saw Alec suddenly shudder. "Whoa, what's wrong?" he urgently demanded, sliding closer as he reached his hand out to cup the side of Alec's neck, left it there as Alec rode out a serious of small tremors. Dean's eyes flew to Sam's in question before they returned to Alec.

"He gets seizures sometimes. Needs Tryptophan to keep them at bay," Sam explained, watched Dean's expression as he looked to Alec in worry. "It's in milk and you can also buy it on its own, probably at a nutrition store."

"Explains the milk fetish," Dean said, eyes flickering to Sam's before landing back on Alec as the transgenic slumped more firmly back against the cupboards as the tremors finally left him. "Doesn't explain why I haven't seen you popping pills on a daily basis," and there was condemnation there, reprimand.

"He says the pills are expensive," Sam tattle tailed, a smirk turning up his lips as he knew what was coming Alec's way, especially when Dean raised his eyebrows at his statement.

"Too expensive? Let me get this straight, you're suffering through seizures to save us _money?!" _Dean's voice was incredulous and his tone hard, inflexible when it came to people he cared about hurting themselves.

Alec cringed under the glare, the censure. "I haven't exactly been pulling my weight in the finance area…" his regret and shame at his failing evident in his words.

"Yeah, 'cause you making money is the only reason we're keeping you around?!" Dean scoffed, gave Alec's cheek a light slap before he leaned back in his crouch. For a moment he leveled his look at Alec and then he stood, headed for the door, said "I'll be back," before he was gone.

"I screwed up. Huh?" Alec exhaled but Sam had a tender look on his face when he turned to look at him.

"No but Dean thinks he did," Sam said, had easily read Dean's self chastisement at not taking care of the people he deemed himself responsible for. And Sam loved his brother more for it than he could ever verbalize. At Alec's narrowed eyes and confusion, he clarified, "Dean takes his responsibilities very seriously."

Alec's throat suddenly felt thick as he returned, "That applies to you…not me."

Sam smiled and shook his head, "And Dean accuses me of being slow on the uptake." Standing, he held out a hand to Alec, saw that the younger man was still processing his words, trying to barricade himself off from what they truly implied.

Accepting Sam's help, Alec came to his feet, let Sam supported him as he made his way to the beds. But he was about to protest when he wasn't lead to the rollaway bed that his coin toss the night before earned him, until he saw the set look on Sam's face. Being a enough of a soldier to recognize a battle he couldn't win, he mutely laid down on Sam's bed.

When he woke up two hours later, the first sight he saw was Dean sitting in the other bed, concerned eyes drawn to him. His second sight was the pill bottle of Tryptophan on the night stand. It was crazy but Alec felt like bursting into tears at the simple bottle, felt that same desire when he opened the first aid kit on the next hunt to find two bottles of Tryptophan among the bandages and suture kits.

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TBC ?

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Ah..did I mention I'm kind of a sap. Should have put that as a warning.

Thanks so much for reading and I really do value your support!

I do have a plot line worked out but since it's simply been snap shot of scenes so far, my updating at this point is really dependent upon people wanting more of the story.

Have a wonderful evening!

Cheryl W.


	4. Chapter 4

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: First…I love all you guys for your support!? For a story that I felt sick to my stomach with nerves posting, this has turned into such a fun posting experience because of all of your wonderful feedback!! Second, sorry for the long intermission…I sneaked in a vacation but the good news is I spent a lot of time writing! Now here's your warning: Season 3 themed angst ahead…enough said.

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Chapter 4

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Alec approached the motel room but he stumbled to a stop as his exceptional hearing allowed the Winchester voices to reach him clearly.

"I'm sick of your kamikaze routine, Dean."

"I'm more like a Ninja."

"Oh right, you're the man that has nothing to lose."

"If the shoe fits…"

"Dean don't do this, don't pretend that this doesn't matter!"

"It doesn't change anything, Sam. Now the doctor, he had some good advice…"

"Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?"

The silence stole Alec's breath away, left his heart thudding in his chest, felt like somehow he had missed something between the two men, had missed what caused this unbearably pain for both of them. Dean nearly collided with him when he stalked out the door and Alec felt sucker punched by the look in Dean's eyes, of defeat, of sorrow, of failure. "Dean…" he pleaded, uncertain what he was asking for but Dean just pulled back, walked to the Impala and left.

Watching the car leave, Alec hesitantly entered the open door of the room, wasn't even remotely prepared to see Sam sitting on the end of a bed, head down, hand covering his mouth to keep a sob withheld as tears streamed down his face. Alec halted, never having much experience with emotions, with the display of them, with the acknowledgement of anguish let alone the sight of the so very strong Sam Winchester seemingly breaking apart.

"Sam, hey, you OK?" he breathed, soothing instead of pleading as he came to the other man's side, put a hesitatant hand on Sam's trembling shoulder. He bent down to be eye level with Sam as the older man looked at him, but the sight of his face seemed only to cause more tears to well in Sam's eyes. Instantly Alec knew his was the wrong face Sam needed right then. "I'll go after him, bring him back," Alec promised, standing up, already stalking for the door when Sam's words halted him.

"Alec, don't."

Turning around, Alec stood there, torn on which side to take in a battle he didn't know the cause of.

Sam wiped at his tears, shook his head but there was no denying the debilitating level of anguish in his eyes. "He needs some space…" clearly not stating that it was what he wanted, the look in his eyes only reinforcing the words Alec had over heard, the words that Sam didn't say aloud…that letting Dean "go" was the last thing on earth he would ever agree to do.

"If I can help with …whatever's going on…" Alec offered but he let the rest of his words die as Sam shook his head sadly.

"It's between Dean and myself.." Sam stated, felt a pang of regret when he saw pain flicker in Alec's eyes at the disassociation. But he couldn't recall the words or the sentiment. As much as Alec had come to be part of their team, as much as he felt like family …like a cousin …he wasn't a brother, wasn't Sam's brother, wasn't Dean. He wouldn't be losing a brother in less than a year, didn't know the level of agony the thought of losing Dean sprang into Sam's heart. Didn't truly understand the level of love that prompted someone to give up their very soul for the survival of someone they loved...or the pain of being the recipient of such a bittersweet show of love and devotion.

Alec numbly nodded his head. "I'll let you alone," he softly replied as he started to leave the room.

"He's my brother, Alec," Sam said like it explained things, would soften the other man's exclusion. "He knows me. I know him." He gave a small choked laugh that was near a sob. "We finish each other's sentences, steal off of each other's plates, patch each other up….and we tear each other down. He's the only thing I've ever had in my life that I could count on…that wasn't taken away," and his voice shattered on that, had Alec turning around, torn between coming back to the older man and leaving right then.

But something drew Alec to Sam, surged in him a need to ease the man's suffering. "At Manticore they taught us to spot weakness, to exploit it. To use what a person cared about, who a person cared about to manipulate them, to even set them up for an assassination." Alec felt Sam's eyes fall intently on him and he forced a wane smile onto his lips. "Emotions were the one tell that every mark had, was the one thing we were never supposed to have."

"But you're human…" Sam protested.

"Only partly," Alec bluntly stated, as he leaned casually against the bureau in front of Sam. "Sam, I was made in a lab, created to be a weapon, to be an assassin. And the first time I broke protocol, the first time I let myself really care about someone…" he cut the words off, looked away, couldn't maintain the nonchalant façade under Sam's intense look.

"What happened?" Sam breathed, watching Alec as the younger man wouldn't meet his eyes at first, knew why when the green pain filled gaze finally came up level with his own.

"They got caught in the cross fire. They died…_she_ died." Alec could see the compassion, the sorrow for his loss in Sam's eyes. He spoke before Sam could. "I told myself that I didn't belong with Ordinaries, not when my actions, my problems could get them killed. Been telling myself that I don't belong with you and Dean because I could get you guys killed."

"But you've stayed with us. How did we convince you to _stay_?" Sam asked, wanting to know the trick for getting people to stay, for getting Dean to stay with him, to not leave him.

It was the question Alec had asked himself for the first month before it came to him. "You didn't convince me to stay as much as you convinced me not to leave. Every time I headed for the door, one of you stopped me, tied me to the both of you more tightly than I was before, made me realize that whatever was on the other side of that door…it couldn't compare to what's on _this_ side."

Sam looked even more shell shocked by his revelation and Alec said some of the same words that he had said to Dean, "Dean loves you too much to stay away, Sam. He'll always come back for you because he takes being a big brother, being your big brother, very seriously." But at his words, Sam choked on a sob. His smile instantly vanishing, Alec cursed himself for somehow making things worse, for thinking he, a friggin' science experiment, knew what it was like to have a brother, to know what it felt like to be out of synch with him. "Sam, I'm sorry I didn't…" he brokenly began, hand coming to rest on Sam's shoulder.

But Sam surged to his feet, slipped from Alec's touch, paced away from his presence. Alec winced when Sam, with a growl, threw the glass tumbler at the wall to shatter it into a hundred shards. His stomach churning, Alec watched Sam shake his head, almost brutally wipe away his tears before his angry, desolate eyes fell upon him.

"That's the problem, Alec," Sam snarled and Alec knew the anger was not truly directed at him. "He's always too busy taking care of ME! Taking care of strangers, taking care of …" Sam caught himself before he added the transgenic to the tally, watched as Alec's eyes register the unspoken accusation all the same. With his next words, his voice dropped, became more desperation, regret, frustration and affection than anger. "He never takes care of himself, never worries about himself. He can't get it through his thick head that I'm _his brother_, that things go both ways between us, that I'm not going to be OK if…" but Sam bit back the word, couldn't utter it, couldn't give that possibility one heartbeat in the light.

Alec wanted to ask, wanted to voice the questions screaming in his head, '_Not going to be OK if What?!'_

With a last tear slipping down his face, Sam met Alec's wide eyes, his pained yet naïve gaze. Sam knew what lay in the depths of the green eyes, what hurt lay there, what guilt was stored there, knew that Alec bore the condemnation for taking lives as a Manticore soldier…but he didn't know the unbearable ache of having a life **given for him**_, _a life more precious than his own. "You said you thought you should leave us …"

His heart pounding as he feared that Sam was going to make a correlation between leaving and Dean, Alec stammered almost in protest, "But I didn't, I haven't.." left unsaid, '_I couldn't.'_

"But you thought about leaving to protect us," Sam bit his lip a moment before he drew in a breath to say the rest, "to save us. So you know that sometimes, people, they don't show their love by staying…sometimes they show it by leaving." Seeing Alec wince at the implications, Sam turned away, headed for the door. He couldn't find it in himself to try and ease the younger man's confusion and pain, couldn't help the resentment building in his chest that someone that looked like Dean would still be around in a year's time, would still be wearing his face, carrying his eyes. But would never be Dean. Would never replace what Dean was to him. Was a replica for his brother but would never ever be a replacement for him. Not for Sam, not in Sam's heart and soul.

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Left alone in the room, blindsided by Sam's statement, by the conclusions he refused to make, Alec bitterly wondered if Manticore might have been doing him a favor when they had sought to rid him of his emotions, to deter him from placing value on anyone that wasn't part of the mission. He was starting to believe that emotions were the root of all destruction because, crap, he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Like there was another reason, besides the seizures, to issue a factory recall on him.

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Alec didn't do anger, he did deflection and snarky comments and compartmentalizing and, if the situation truly warranted it, revenge. Had let Max's accusations roll off his back, had replied to her put downs with a smirk and a 'yeah, you have me pegged Max' look. Back at Manticore he had had a reputation for being the most even tempered X5.

But he wasn't at Manticore anymore, was instead, of his own choosing, out in the middle of the forest. Wasn't on a mission with his unit but was backed up by people who bore names, not designations, who were not his fellow soldiers but who were his partners, even his friends. And he had greater concerns weighing on him than completing the mission objective. Like two idiots who thought it would be fun to play matador with some scaly, snarling lion sized creature that even Manticore would have found too ugly to keep hanging around.

Fury washed over him, its sensation foreign and yet all encompassing, even as he used all the speed Manticore had built into him to try and stop the inevitable. Growled like the cat his DNA was mixed with as he saw the creature leap forward and slam into Dean, who had recklessly cut his arm to draw the beast to him. Watching helplessly as Dean was knocked onto the ground, he saw that when Dean plunged his silver knife into the beast's neck it only enraged the creature more, made it more anxious to sink its teeth into Dean's flesh.

With a yell, Alec tackled the creature. The action knocked it off of Dean's chest and sent both transgenic and beast tangling together as they rolled in the underbrush. Alec broke the creature's neck before they had completed one roll, tossed the carcass angrily aside when the momentum ceased. Then he was running back to Dean, his eyes catching Sam limping toward them, having been an inconsequential obstacle to the creature's rush to get to the waiting bait Dean had foolishly made himself.

Dropping to his knees on the forest floor beside Dean who was weakly struggling to sit up, Alec put his hand on Dean's collarbone and gently pushed Dean back down to the ground with little effort. His other hand he used to lift Dean's shirt, revealed the miraculously shallow claw marks on Dean's chest that were starting to spot with blood. His trained eyes skimming down Dean's body, he noted the tears in Dean's jeans at both shins, the dark liquid that was starting to dampen the denim.

Anger blanketing his worry, Alec thundered, "What was that?!" his eyes searing into Dean's, demanding an answer, some valid reason for the illogical tactic.

"Dean, hey, you alright?" Sam worriedly asked, finally reaching his brother and dropping to Dean's other side.

"I'm fine, few scratches," Dean brazenly announced, cocky smirk in place as his eyes met Sam's. "Did you see the great white hunter in action, Sam?" he proudly taunted, eyes slipping back to Alec.

Trying to get his heart from pounding out of his chest after seeing Dean go down under the creature's weight and ferocity, Sam gave a weak smile but there was gratitude in his eyes as he looked also to Alec. "Yeah, pretty impressive."

Frustrated by the two men's nonchalant attitude to Dean's foolhardy actions, not to mention his bloody wounds, Alec incredulously asked, "Have you two finally lost it?!" his look swiveling between the two brothers. "Maybe you haven't been paying attention but you both almost got mauled to death."

"Nah, we had things under control. Had it right where we wanted it," Dean sallied back, one side of his lips turned up in a smirk.

"Yeah, I can see that," Alec snapped back, fisting his hand in Dean's shirt an instant before he pulled the wounded man onto his shoulder and stood up.

"Hey, put me down!" Dean snarled as he found himself draped over Alec's shoulder, unprepared for the transgenic's action let alone the quickness of it.

Instead of retorting to Dean's order, Alec reached down, hooked a hand under Sam's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Let's move out," he ordered, supporting Sam even as he pulled him forward and tightening his grip on Dean's legs when the older man pushed on his back in a vain effort to facilitate his release.

"I can walk!" Dean protested, railing at the vulnerability he felt at being carried, of not being in control. Pushing again at Alec's back to lift himself upward, he winced as the claw wounds on his chest pulled.

Retreating back under the guise of 'fun loving, carefree Alec', Alec said, "As amusing as it would be to let you two invalids take a couple of hours to stumble back to the car, I've got places to be."

Appreciating Alec's sturdy strength aiding him, not to mention carrying his too stubborn brother's wounded carcass, Sam shot Alec a bewildering look. "What places?"

"Out of here," Alec replied, eyes ahead, calculating the distance, the time it would take to reach the Impala. Knowing that Dean's injuries weren't life threatening and Sam's limp was most likely due to just a twisted ankle didn't dampen the fear, the outrage that was still coursing through him. His overheard conversation rang through his head with more clarity.

"_I'm sick of your kamikaze routine, Dean."_

"_I'm more like a Ninja."_

"_Oh right, you're the man that has nothing to lose."_

Though he didn't know what had prompted Dean's recklessness, Alec had finally seen it in action with his own eyes and it hiked the anger he was struggling to quell.

"You want to tell me what you thought you were doing? Setting yourself up for bait…without Sam and I there for backup," he asked, his voice pitched carefree but Sam saw that Alec's jaw was clenched. And it was a gesture Sam had seen on Dean when his restraint on his emotions was nearing its boiling point.

"Getting the job done," Dean mumbled back. Resigned to his fate, he had left his head settle between Alec's shoulder blades, let himself relax in the unfailing strength of the transgenic. He knew a losing battle when he faced one.

"Right, the job," Alec glibly seemed to agree before he sarcastically goaded, "I must have forgotten to read the roster, on the 'Sacrificial lamb sign up form'. Was today your turn? And what, Sam's is next hunt and mine's the next. Just the other day I was thinking how I wanted to brush up on my medic-tech training and now I can."

"I can take care of myself," Dean heatedly declared, even as his vulnerable position over Alec's shoulders belied his statement.

"Back in Manticore, before my solo missions, I lead a unit. And my commanding officers always told me that the soldiers under my command were only tools, mine to use and expend anyway I chose, that the only thing I should concern myself with was making sure the mission was successful. Is that what you're telling me too, Dean? That Sam and I should just write you off as expendable as long as the "hunt" is successful? What about _Sam, _is he expendable, too?" Alec calmly challenged, knew how Dean would react when Sam was added into the equation.

"No!" Dean nearly shouted, hands fisting in the back of Alec's shirt, railing against that notion with every fiber in his being, remembering too sharply the sight of Sam in his arms, limp, lifeless, gone from him.

"Well you're not expendable either, Dean," Alec forcefully declared, eyes skimming to Sam's, seeing the same declaration in his eyes. "Not to Sam and not to me. Guess that's why Sam jumped in front of a three hundred pound creature trying to stop it from charging you. Guess that's why I snapped its neck, took its life with such satisfaction. You might want to figure our reactions into your calculations the next time you want to find some creative way to get yourself wasted."

"I wasn't…"Dean started to deny but Alec cut him off.

"Yeah, you were," Alec accused, his tone unyielding. Shifting his grip on his precious cargo laying over his shoulder and flexing his fingers tightly around Sam's arm, he desperately sought to link Dean and Sam to him. Was frustrated that his genetic enhancements hadn't given him enough of an edge to keep them safe. Wished that he knew how to mend what was broken between the brothers even as he wondered when these two men had come to mean more to him than his own life.

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There was no anger in Alec's touch as he poured holy water into Dean's wounds. With regret and apology, he rested his hand on Dean's hip, felt Dean stiffen as the antiseptic burned upon contact with the open wounds. He used gentle ministrations as he bandaged the wounds on Dean's chest and wrapped his legs, his eyes flickering to Dean's time and time again, but found, not anger but sorrow in the green depths. They did speak, none of the occupants of the room broke the oppressive silence. It almost made Alec yearn for the weird calls and screaming that had echoed in his cell on the lower level of Manticore during his punishment period.

Wordlessly holding out a glass of water and a pain pill to Dean, Alec nearly protested when Dean only took the water, took a few swallows and then placed the glass on the night stand. Instead he sat there on the side of the bed and meekly watched Dean roll to his side, turn his back to him, shut him out. Easing from the bed, hoping to not shift the mattress too badly under the injured man, Alec looked to Sam, saw the pinched look on the other man's face as he stared at his brother's back and Alec knew the expression didn't have a thing to do with his twisted ankle.

Crossing over to Sam, Alec hooked a chair from the kitchen table and sat it down beside Sam's. Sinking into the seat, he bent down and carefully pulled the man's injured leg up onto his lap. When his probing fingers elicited a wince from Sam but didn't uncover any evidence of serious damage, he began wrapping an ace bandage around the swelling ankle. But he purposefully didn't meet Sam's eyes, wondered if Sam thought he had crossed the line, talking to Dean as he had, insinuating that he could lump his concern with his.

Sam's quiet call of his name had Alec's eyes flying to Sam's, hope and dread mixing in him.

"Alec, thanks. For …everything," Sam reverently said, wished he dared say more, that he could express to Alec just how much it meant to him that he had saved Dean, that he had tried to put a dent in his brother's 'I'm already dead/you've got to let me go/you'll be fine without me Sammy' armor. But by the look in Alec's eyes and by the nod of his head, he knew that Alec understood his unspoken sentiments, knew how deep and broad his gratitude was. Understood maybe a little more what Sam was going through everyday as he watched Dean distance himself, risk himself, pretend that his life wasn't precious. And it lessened some of the terrible crushing weight in Sam's chest to know someone else was fighting to keep Dean safe, was angered by Dean's recklessness, that someone else was raging against Dean leaving him. That Alec would rage against Dean leaving _them_.

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TBC?

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I did warn you about the angst right? But some of you wanted Sam angst and this was the next part I had almost already completed so it seemed like perfect timing to douse the sap with inner turmoil.

Ok, next chapter crosses the threshold into plot line and will deal with DA issues. Any takers? If I continue, it will be the point of no return for me as a writer because I make it a rule to finish my stories. (I can't believe I'm actually actively writing/posting 2 stories right now! These warring muses are a messy thing to deal with?!)

Thanks so much for reading and for all the unexpected but oh so wonderful support for this AU crossover. It's really been so much fun writing and even more fun posting and getting your reactions!

Have a wonderful Day!

Cheryl W.


	5. Chapter 5

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Note: Thank you for of all your encouragement and interest to see the story continue!! I've mapped out the plot line/chapters and I'm thinking the full story will wrap up in 10 -12 chapters. Hope you continue to enjoy it!

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Chapter 5

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Alec and Sam looked worriedly to Dean, felt the older man's sudden onslaught of tension.

"Dean, what's…" Sam began to ask but Dean nodded to the bar's television, drew his younger companions' attention to the news report that had his gut clenching.

They didn't need to hear the newscaster's words, could read the headline scrolling at the bottom of the screen. "Mutant escapee from covert government project Manticore gunned down by Police". And truly, if a picture was worth a thousand words, live feed coverage was worth a billion.

Eyes coming to land on Alec's features, Dean saw the tension in the other man's jaw, saw Alec wince as the "mutant" was riddled with bullets. "Let's get out of here," he ordered and left the stool, knew unquestionably that Alec and Sam were trailing behind him, following his lead.

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Alec watched daily as the news reports kept coming in and getting worse, were polluted with words like Manticore, government Experiments, genetics, mutants, dangerous. And then the worst of it, the leak that Alec knew White had initiated: Some of these mutants looked human, were among them, were a threat to human beings. He watched in horror as some of his fellow Manticore alumni got hunted down and killed. But when Max's face appeared on the report, when he saw the rest of his kind taking a stand in Terminal City, he knew that he couldn't lie to himself anymore. He wasn't a Winchester, wasn't even truly a _human being_. He was a transgenic, was an X series, was as much a mutant as everyone else huddled in Terminal City.

Surging from the end of the bed, Alec stalked for the door, wasn't prepared to have Dean there already, blocking his path. "Dean.." he began, needed to explain that he didn't belong with them anymore, maybe never had.

But Dean's stronger green gaze lanced into his, held him in place as much as Dean's hands on his chest did. "I get it. I really do. Those are people like you getting killed, maybe even people you know."

"Then you know I have to go back, have to help them," Alec steadily stated, even as a part of him wanted to stay, wanted to believe that he could turn his back on who he was, what he was, be who Dean and Sam said he was, wanted him to be.

Reading the determination and the guilt in Alec's expressive eyes, Dean sighed. "Yeah, I know you do." Stepping clear of Alec, he looked at Sam who had stood to watch the confrontation with trepidation. "Grab your stuff, Sammy. Looks like we're heading to Seattle."

Alec grabbed Dean's arm, "This isn't your fight," green eyes clashing with green eyes.

His gaze rock steady, Dean replied, "You've fought in our war for awhile. It's time for us to return the favor."

"Dean it's.." Alec quietly began to protest.

"What? Dangerous?!" Dean challenged with a cocky smile.

Alec tightened his grip on the other man's arm, had to make him see what he truly faced. "White and his army, they want to kill me. Might see you and think you're me. And even my own kind…" he looked away a moment, felt shame color his cheeks before he looked again to Dean. "They won't welcome me back with a parade…might not even let me jump the fence to Terminal City. Far as they are concerned, I'm a screw up and even worse, a coward who bailed on them."

"Guess they'll be getting a chance to see you the way Sammy and I do," Dean calmly countered, felt angry that anyone could so badly misread Alec's bravery and honor.

Even as Alec was warmed by Dean's comment he couldn't shake the fear growing in his gut. Turning his eyes to Sam, he knew that Sam would understand his fear, would share it. "You know he shouldn't go. I don't want him killed because of me… either of you killed in the crossfire," he implored, hoping Sam could sway Dean's mind.  
"I'm right here, you know," Dean growled, but his words didn't garner the attention of Alec or Sam.

Sam was torn between his loyalty to Alec and his all-encompassing need to keep Dean safe, to have his brother with him for as long as he could. Forever, if the fates could unlock the deal his brother had made. But thinking of the deal only made Sam realize that Dean did not back down from protecting those he cared for. That Dean could bear anything but failing in that self-assigned duty. Stepping beside Alec and Dean, his eyes flickering from Dean and then settling on Alec, he shook his head, gave a small, pained smile, "If you think he'll stop thinking that you are his to protect just because you walk out that door, you don't know him as well as you think you do."

Finding himself the object of both of the younger men's emotional looks, Dean shook his head, groused, "Ah come on, we holding a slumber party here or what?" Sliding out of Alec's hold, he crossed to his bed and began shoving his worldly possessions into his bag.

Sam and Alec, both wearing affectionate yet worried smiles, stood there a moment and watched Dean, their personal body guard.

"You know you Ordinaries are just going to slow me down.." Alec taunted.

"Bite me," Dean shot back, slinging his bag over his shoulder and coming again to face Alec. "So this White character, you said he was genetically built too. Does he have the same vulnerabilities that you do?"

"You mean you two," Alec returned, a smirk on his handsome boyish features, acknowledging in the retort how deep his link to the two men went.

Dean didn't miss a beat, let the chick flick comment go unchallenged, "No, dumbbehind. Does he need his milk fix?"

"I doubt it. He's from another "recipe" you could say."

Dean frowned, "Ah don't say that. Now every time I look at a Petri dish I'll think of food!"

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Standing outside the fence to Terminal City, Alec felt his gut clench. Found he was equally glad he had insisted Dean and Sam hang back, and fervently wishing the two men were there with him, forcing the loneliness searing though him to dissipate. Not wanting to get shot by some half trained kid on patrol, he stood by the security camera, gave a smile and a wave and hoped that someone was manning the security camera console. That Max had enough sense to keep the compound running on a tight military format.

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On the roof of the building across the street, Dean shifted the rifle's night scope sights to the left and right of Alec, found no threats yet, outside or _inside_ the compound. Though he knew Alec wouldn't be real happy if he took out one of his transgenic buddies, Dean still rested his finger on the trigger, was prepared to make a kill shot if one hostile move was made toward Alec. He wasn't losing anyone else. Besides he knew his conscience could certainly handle a few more body counts, especially when the sin couldn't change his soul's destiny, one way or the other. His hands tightened on the rifle as he saw movement in the compound.

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With his enhanced eyesight, Alec saw the soldier's approach, easily determined that it was one of the younger X8 series. He almost sighed. '_Couldn't you get any one older to patrol the line, Max? You know, someone who has to at least shave._ _Crap, you guys need me more than I thought you would. Course getting anyone to acknowledge that, especially Max, now that would be the trick.'_

The male X8 came to a halt a few yards from the fence, his rifle pointed at Alec's chest. "State your business."

"My business?" Alec laughed, earned a scowl from the boy of fifteen. "Ah yeah, my business. I'm X5 series," he stated, turned around and slipped his coat off his back far enough for the X8 to read his bar code. Facing the boy soldier again, he eyed up the compound. "Doesn't look like it has great amenities and the neighbors seem a little hostile…" he quirked, jerking his head to the right where a military jeep sat occupied by soldiers who were there to keep the dangerous "mutants" inside their pen. "But I thought I would see how the freedom fighting was going, have a chat with who ever is in charge."

The X8 pressed his hand against his ear, was apparently receiving orders from "command". Signing off with "Yes, sir," the boy lowered his rifle, gave Alec a look of what almost seemed awe and stammered, "Sorry Sir. I didn't know who you were."

Bracing himself for his piss poor reputation to get him kicked back to the Impala, Alec wasn't prepared for the boy's next words.

"You probably don't remember it, but you saved my unit once, sir. Broke protocol and disobeyed orders to do it."

"What mission was this?"

"NV879: Nevada, the terrorist cell had us pinned down inside the building. Your orders were to neutralize the building. Permanently."

Alec remembered that mission, remembered having to go solo and rogue to take out the terrorists without sacrificing the lives of a unit full of twelve year old kids who had been the only ones small enough to crawl into the building via an aqueduct. Pulling on a smirk he kidded, "I make it a point not to waste explosives on my own kind. It's not cost effective."

The X8 laughed, "Joshua said you were funny."

At the name of his friend, Alec was hit with how much he had missed the big guy.

"Come on over. I'll take you to Max," the X8 said, stepping back to give the X5 room to land.

"Max..she's in charge?" Alec asked, though in truth, he had no doubts that she would be the guiding force behind the genetic stand for freedom.

"Yes, she's the one who convinced us to stop running, has set up the security and organized supply runs."

"Sounds like her," Alec mumbled under his breath even as he was impressed. Then he jumped over the fence to land in a crouch by the X8. "Alright, then, pal. Take me to your leader."

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Dean couldn't help feeling awed when he saw Alec jump over the fence, saw more of the younger man's bag of tricks. "Ah, man. I think I got ripped off on the whole DNA package."

"What was that, Dean?" Sam's voice came from the cell phone Dean had laying on the ground by his right elbow.

Knowing that his brother would be left sitting in the Impala aka getaway vehicle, anxious for any updates on Alec's welcome back party, Dean had agreed to give a blow by blow recap as the events unfolded. "Seems like he got the green light to cross over the picket line," Dean reported. Tracking Alec through the rifle scope, he saw the duo making their way across the parking lot scattered with refuge and burned out cars. Movement ahead of Alec's position caught Dean's attention and he focused on the small greeting party walking toward Alec. His finger resting on the trigger, he counted ten targets, tried to have an open mind as he saw the animal mutants among the X5 series transgenics. "Scratch that. My DNA is awesome," he mumbled, grateful for the absence of scales and a bald misshaped head.

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Watching as a group walked toward him, Alec feared it was a lynch mob, ready to string him up for deserting them all. Seeing Joshua "leading the pack", he knew he would take, without protest, whatever retribution that the big mutant deemed was his due for bailing on them. Because, somewhere down deep, Alec knew Joshua had counted on him, trusted him when no one else would have taken the risk. And he had left him down.

He nearly stumbled to a stop at the look on Joshua's face, the smile that turned up the canine contoured lips, the bounce that was evident in the tall transgenic's step. "Hey, Josh, how have you been?" he casually greeted even as his heart pounded in his chest, still fearing Joshua's greeting.

"Alec!" Joshua called out in happiness and caught Alec into a tight hug, ended up picking the X5 off the ground in his exuberance. "Alec, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Yeah, buddy," Alec wheezed out, Joshua's tight grip constricting around his chest. "I think I got that."

At the pain in Alec's voice, Joshua dropped Alec almost instantly, shot his hands out and steadied the young transgenic when he stumbled on his landing. Bending down, Joshua worriedly studied his friend's face.

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Dean was a breath away from taking out the hulking mutant that seemed intent on crushing Alec in his significant grip when he saw the look on the mutant's face..the smile, saw the way Alec's hands wrapped around the tall creatures frame and not in a defensive move. "Holy crap," Dean exclaimed in perplexed surprise.

"What?! What's happening Dean?" Sam frantically demanded.

Dean reacted with a "Huh," to the scene he viewed through his rifle sights.

"Huh what Dean?!"

"I think Alec just got hugged by Chewbacca."

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"Alec OK? Alec not hurt?" Joshua asked, big hands gentle as they ran down Alec's arms, his torso.

"Nah, I'm fine. Little manly…er..dogly hugging can't hurt me," Alec scoffed.

"No, before. The news…they said you were shot escaping prison. And then you didn't come back…"

"Ah about that …" Alec began, wondering how he could explain road tripping with his clone and his clone's brother, hunting down things more evil and hideous than Manticore could ever hope to create.

SNDASNDASNDA

Seeing a late comer to the party, Dean watched the petite brunette stalk up to the gathered group of transgenics and shove her way through. Instantly he knew that it couldn't be anybody other than Max. Max who Alec had spoken of with a mixture of affection, respect, annoyance and censure. "Well, she's definitely not hard on the eyes, kiddo."

"Dean are you trying to piss me off or is it just coming naturally," Sam snarled through the cell phone, frustrated by the lousy job of commentating his brother was doing.

"I think Max is coming onto the scene. And Sammy, she's one hot chick."

"He said she was…said it in the same breath as he said she was royal pain, ordering him around."

"Some orders are a pleasure to carry out, Sammy. That's what you never understood," Dean smirked, watched as Max finally made it to the front of the group and stumbled to a stop as she got her first unobstructed view of Alec.

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As Joshua affectionately cuffed the side of his head, Alec felt a quiet settle on the other transgenics. Looking past Joshua, he felt his breath catch as his eyes met Max's. '_Great. Time for the chewing out. The "do me a favor and leave. I can't stand to even look at you" speech.' _When she began walking toward him, he braced himself for her physical and/or verbal assault.

Her breathless, choked words barely registered with him.

"I was so scared. I thought I lost you…"

Going onto her tip toes, Max wrapped her hand around the base of Alec's neck and brought his head down. Then their lips collided together into a kiss.

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Seeing Max draw Alec into a long, deep kiss, Dean proudly smirked. "Oh, he definitely has my undeniable sex appeal."

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Released from Max's long kiss an instant before even his transgenic lungs would have collapsed, Alec looked at Max in stunned confusion even as he reeled from his own receptiveness to Max, to her kiss. Suddenly he felt like he had stepped into an alternate universe, one where he was the celebrated prodigal son and Max was _his_ girl, anxiously awaiting his return.

"Whoa, hey, I think you guys need to stop drinking the water in this toxic wasteland because …what's going on here," Alec said, moving his finger to point at Max, Joshua and the gathered well wishers, "it's …"

Max's right cross connected brutally with his jaw, cut off his words and had him stumbling under the assault.

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Dean winced in sympathy as Max's punch landed on an unsuspecting Alec. "Ouch. Apparently Alec doesn't have my charm, Sammy. His girl Max just tried to deck him."

"What about that waitress you "romanced" in Tulsa?" Sam taunted through the phone.

"We promised never to talk about her, Sammy. Never. Hey, maybe she was a transgenic, one of the crew that escaped with Max years ago."

"Dean the waitress was like thirty, way too old. Man, she just laid you out with one punch, I know 'cause Dad and I were right there, witnessing the whole thing."

"Shut up or you're walking to our next gig."

"Dean, you do realize that I'm the one sitting in the Impala right now, right?"

SNDASNDASNDA

Hand pressed to his jaw, Alec straightened, eyed Max with exasperation. "What was that for?"

"That's for not calling me! For letting me wonder if your dumb behind was dead or alive or on White's examination table."

"I called, I told Cindy that I had to leave town."

"One call," Max accused, raising her one finger practically into Alec's face. "And you didn't even have the balls to call me personally."

"I didn't know we were _personal,_ Max," Alec shot back, frustrated by the way Max ran hot and cold around him, about him.

His retort brought Max up short. She didn't know when it had happened, how it had happened that Alec had come to be "personal" for her. She hadn't been prepared to feel such a _void_ when he had left, when he wasn't _there_. She had tried to rationalize it, tell herself lame things like "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and even war prisoners sometimes missed their captors. But none of it could explain the _ache_ she felt without Alec _there_, with his smile, with his too perfect looks, his smart aleck comments. And she had come to realize the parts of Alec she had never acknowledged before: His compassion.. for her, for others; his willingness to help..anyone; the look that would come into his eyes that screamed pain even as he smirked and said, "I'm always alright." Then there was his quiet strength that he had always offered to her when her world was imploding. And she had known in her gut that the transgenics in Terminal City would have followed him without reservations, would not have given Alec the flak that they gave her daily, not with his tactical knowledge and commanding, confident presence.

Meeting Alec's eyes, she could see his pain reflected there, pain she had put there, again. Quietly she mumbled, "Yeah, well, we are personal. Get used to it." Then she turned around and started stalking away, called over her shoulder. "We have work to do." But when she took a few more steps forward and realized instinctively that he hadn't moved to follow her lead, she stopped, swung around. By the look in his eyes, she knew instantly that Alec had changed in the past months. He was somehow stronger, more confident, more at peace with who he was and what he was. Was no longer her soldier…her lackey to order around as she chose. Fear fell on her like a ton of bricks and she couldn't help the catch in her voice, "You're not staying…"

Alec wanted to distance himself from the question, from the strange vulnerability he heard in Max's voice, the look in her eyes that he almost interpreted as need. "We thought we would see if you needed any help."

"We?" Max echoed, uncertainty churning in her at the implications, at the realizations that Alec, the loner, had somehow, in a few months' time, become a "we".

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TBC!

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Hope you're OK with how I portrayed Max. In the series she was always so hard on Alec. I think that she was blinded to his good points and needed a real good wakeup call, like his absence to make her see things more clearly.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	6. Chapter 6

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: Honestly I've reworked this chapter time and time again so I really hope the end product is OK.

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Chapter 6

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Alec didn't expect to be nervous, didn't expect to feel the knot of fear in his gut, to have his adrenaline pumping through him like danger was imminent. It was no big deal, him introducing Dean and Sam to Max, to Joshua, the dog boy, taking them on a tour through freak central, maybe putting them in the middle of a transgenic lynch mob, what with the warm fuzzy feelings going around for "ordinaries". He winced even as the word "ordinaries" went through his head, it was derogatory, was a put down and would never apply to Dean and Sam. Ever. And if anyone so much as gave them one hostile look…

"Alec …nervous?" Joshua asked his friend, watching the usually calm Alec pace back and forth in the sewer tunnel, run his hand through his hair as his eyes continually searched the tunnel for the 'guests' he was inviting to TC.

"What?" Alec gave a fabricated laugh. "Course not." But there was a flicker of fear in his eyes as they finally met Joshua's. Stepping closer to his friend, his eyes straying fleetingly to Max who stood back a few feet talking to Mole about some TC command issues, Alec swung his look back to Joshua. "Josh, these are my…"  
"Friends," Joshua supplied helpfully.

But Alec found that the word was suddenly inadequate, painfully inept for describing the relationship he had with the two brothers, the way he felt about Dean, about Sam. Dropping his eyes from Joshua, he looked back to the tunnel, both anticipating and dreading the Winchesters' approach.

Realization came over Joshua and it both warmed his heart and made him feel a stab of jealously. "They are your family, aren't they Alec?" he gently asked, saw the way Alec spun around to face him, his eyes wide as if Joshua had uncovered a secret he had buried in the depths of his soul where he thought no one would ever find it.

"Josh.."Alec said, heart pounding, eyes flickering again to Max and back to Joshua. "They…we….I don't want them hurt because of me…because of what I am."

There was an unexpected level of understanding, of pain in the larger transgenic's eyes. "I know. What we are…it sometimes _hurts_ the ones we want to protect."

Alec swallowed hard at Joshua's words, at the truth of them. Finding his hand sneaking into his pocket, gripping his cell phone, he was ready to call Dean and Sam, wave them off, to tell them that it wasn't the right time, the right place to meet up. Joshua's large but gentle hand settled on his shoulder, drew his attention again to his friend's warm gaze. "I'll help you protect them, Alec. And so will Max."

Some of the tension leaked out of Alec at Joshua's promise, at his belief that Max would also do whatever she could to shelter Dean and Sam from harm. Alec couldn't help but snort at the Winchesters' reaction if they learned that, not only was _he_ trying to protect them, but so was a dog boy and, to coin one of Dean's phrases, a "hot chick".

Thoughts drawn to said "hot chick", Alec stepped closer to Joshua and spoke quietly. "So what's up with Max? What was that kiss me/hit me greeting about?"

"She missed you," Joshua stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Alec gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, missed me? Max?! Come on, she would rather have all her teeth pulled than admit that." But then he tilted his head as he recalled her words of greeting to him. "Or not. Man, Josh, are you sure these toxic fumes aren't affecting her, making her develop, I don't know, extra personalities?"

"She was different without you around, Alec. Sad."

"Sad she didn't have her own personal punching bag," Alec mumbled, went to turn away and leave the conversation alone but Joshua gripped his arm, stopped his retreat.

"No, sad because she figured out her own heart." Watching the protest form in Alec, Joshua pressed on, knew his friends needed some help facing what was so obvious to him. "The virus, it went done, is gone."

"Ah…so her and Logan have been…" Alec smiled.

But Joshua shook his head, "Logan and Max are friends. Only."

"Right, the whole "we're not even like that" story. Joshua, when women…"

"No," Joshua firmly cut Alec off. He remembered the look on Max's face when she visited him in Terminal City a few days after the virus was gone…after Alec was gone.

_SNDASNDASNDA_

"Oh Joshua it doesn't make any sense! I have everything I've ever wanted now…and I'm miserable."

"Virus gone. You and Logan getting…"

"I couldn't," she breathed, shot him almost an embarrassed look. "I thought that would make everything OK, would make everything alright."

"But everything not alright?" Joshua prodded, though he had an idea what was truly bothering his friend.

"Why is he always ruining my life? Coming back when I got a handle on things, leaving when my happily ever after is in sight."

"Who?" he innocently asked, knew that she needed to say his name. That she had purposefully not mentioned Alec since Cindy had given her the message that he had left town and her face had morphed into shock.

"Alec!" as if Joshua was a fool not to know the bane of her existence.

"Virus gone, Alec gone. Logan still here.." and then he took a step forward, tapped her heart, "but not here." His gentle eyes met hers, saw the truth register in her.

_SNDASNDASNDA_

Caught off guard by Joshua's forceful protest, Alec raised his hands as if in surrender, "Fine, if you understand women better than I do, more power to you, buddy."

"You and Max, you need to talk. And you need to listen…even to what she doesn't say."

"Ah, yeah," Alec sarcastically shot back. "That's the names she actually holds back from calling me aloud. But trust me, I already got them easily figured out from her expressions." Then, picking up a sound coming from down the tunnel, he swung around, breathed out, "Here they come," and wondered how his friends and yes, his _family_ would get along. Sensing Mole's departure and Max slipping to his side, Alex mumbled, as Dean and Sam came into sight, "My first family reunion. This ought to be interesting."

SNDASNDASNDASN

As they approached Alec, Dean leaned close to Sam, "Told you the big guy looked like Chewbacca."

"Dean.." Sam hissed in warning, felt like he was dealing with a child sometimes when it came to his big brother. "These are Alec's friends."

"Hey I liked Chewbacca! Way better than the Ewoks and Yoda, any day," Dean defended, as if it was Sam who had slighted the tall, hairy man who stood beside Alec. Pulling on a smile as he and Sam finally came to a stop in front of Alec and his two friends, Dean couldn't help worriedly check out Alec. There had been _something_ in the younger man's voice when he called them with instructions on where to meet up.

"Max, Josh, this is Dean and this is Sam," Alec introduced, purposefully omitting the brother's last names. Because, though he trusted Max and Joshua, he didn't want to take any chances of the Feds learning that the Winchesters were adding to their criminal record by consorting with Transgenic mutants…or have it leaked that the infamous Winchesters were holing up in Terminal City.

Sensing how much Alec respected these men, valued what they thought of him..of his friends, Max smiled, greeted them with a warm, "Nice to meet you," made it formal by shaking first Dean's then Sam's hand. But she found it hard not to gawk at Dean, because, _crap_, it seemed impossible but Alec was only going to get better looking with age.

Joshua, however was less restrained with his greeting. "Alec's family is our family," he said right before he enveloped Sam into a bear hug. He gave Sam a good squeeze to reassure the man that he truly meant his words.

"Thanks," Sam wheezed out as he was released by Joshua, gave the dog man a friendly but awkward pat on the arm.

When Joshua turned to Dean, was about to treat him to the same enthusiastic welcome, Alec blurred in front of his transgenic friend, put his hands on Joshua's chest, halting him. "Whoa, there, Josh. Dean's more the ….handshake kind of guy."

Undeterred by the request, Joshua nodded, "Ok" and side stepped Alec.

Standing still, seeing that the tension he noted in Dean when Joshua hugged Sam hadn't dissipated, Alec uttered up a small plea. '_Ah please, don't let there be bloodshed.'_

Though he hadn't given any ground when Joshua had headed for him after releasing Sam, Dean was grateful for Alec's interference. He liked Chewbacca, yeah, didn't mean he wanted to get his ribs broken being _hugged_ by him. Holding out his hand, keeping his polite smile in place, he met Joshua's gaze as the tall, less hairy and dog like man than he envisioned stood before him. He saw intelligence and compassion in the tall transgenic's eyes.

"You're the first…like me," Joshua pointed out.

Dean raised his eyebrows at that, tilted his head, had to expend more effort to keep his smile in place.

"You take care of your little brothers, you took care of Alec," Joshua continued, saw something like surprise flash in the man's eyes who looked so much like Alec but in so many ways was nothing like the transgenic.

Face flaming with embarrassment, Alec came up behind Joshua, put a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, well now that the introductions have been made…"

"Course. That's a big brother's job, right?" Dean replied, his smile honest now. Then Joshua laughed and shook his hand, practically pulling his arm from its socket in his enthusiasm.

"Right, you doing your job," Joshua repeated, understanding why Alec obviously liked this man so much, liked Sam so much. Dropping Dean's hand, he stepped back, flanked Alec, a smile still on his features.

Clamping his hands together, Alec said, "Alright then. How about a tour of Freak Central?" as if he were an enthusiastic tour guide.

"Lead on," Dean encouraged with a wave of his hand down the tunnel. Then the five of them began walking toward the underground entrance to TC. Alec shot a worried glance over his shoulder, afraid to see Dean's true expression but the older man was eyeing the tunnel walls, inspecting the "fortifications" with the intensity he devoted to a hunt. Sam, on the other hand, turned to Joshua who walked at this side, and offered up a smile. "Down here you must hit your head a lot. Dean laughs every time he walks under a tree limb and I hit it."

Feeling less like he was going to toss his cookies, Alec returned his look to the tunnel ahead, felt Max's attention on him. "What?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

"Just you," Max answered, a soft smile on her lips.

"Just me what?" Alex pressed, though he knew that was always his mistake with Max, asking her to say what was on her mind, opening himself up for her put down.

Shrugging but not losing the smile, Max returned, "Nothing…just…you with them. It's kinda …."

"What?" Alec demanded, a sharpness to his tone and a warning in his eyes. He would accept Max slamming him but he wouldn't tolerate her badmouthing the Winchesters.

"Well, if you must know, it's kinda… cute," Max admitted, bestowing a smirk on Alec that reached her eyes.

Alec stumbled at Max's words but quickly regained his balance before her outstretched hand could aid him. "Cute?!" he hissed lowly, like she had called him the worst name possible.

"Yeah, in that whole, little-brother-I'm-in-awe-of-my-big-brothers kind of way. If I didn't already have a thing for you, this might have pushed me over the edge," she taunted with a sexy smile before purposefully outpacing him.

"Wait, a _thing_…you have a _thing_ for me. What's that suppose to mean?" Alec called, speeding up so he could match her pace.

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As far as strategic headquarters, Dean was impressed with TC. Goodness knows, his father's idea of a strategic meeting was giving him a grim smile as they stood outside doors they were soon going to bust down and take out whatever evil lurked inside. Sometimes they even had a plan. He was glad Sam liked plans, that his younger brother rarely bulked against following his lead, was proud that Sam devised a lot of their winning game plans. Now, watching Alec stand in front of the gathered group of transgenics, Dean realized Alec was no slouch in the strategy planning either. No slouch at all.

"All I'm saying is that hiding here won't change anything out there," Alec stated, pointing to the world that beckoned behind the Terminal City limits. "You want to stay trapped here, locked in here, forever. Then fine. But if you want to earn the right to be free, to be out there, you have to make them see that we're not evil."

A heckler called from the crowds, "Yeah, and how do we do that! They take one look at our faces and they run screaming."

Another added, "Course you don't understand that problem do you X5."

"Biggs was an X5, just like me. The only _disfigurement_ he had was the barcode on the back of his neck. And they strung him up, beat him to death. They hate all of us because they fear us. They know we're different and they are terrified we're going to use our abilities against them. We have to prove them wrong."

"How?" Max asked, coming to stand at his side, yearning and challenge mingled in the one word.

"By being what Manticore taught us to be," Alec firmly revealed.

"What?" Max exclaimed in outrage.

But Alec turned toward all the gathered Manticore transgenics, spoke to them. "We were created to help people, to protect this nation, to defend its people against threats, to protect this nation's liberties." Pointing to an X5 male in the crowd, he said, "You were in my unit when we put down that terrorist cell that placed a bomb in that shopping center." Pointing to another familiar, yet lizardlike face, he recalled, "You were the one who was equipped to clean up the nuclear spill two years ago outside New York City." Facing the crowd as a whole he continued, "Manticore recovered five kidnapped persons, stopped nine assassination attempts on the President's life, saved more towns from being wiped out by natural disasters than I could count. We are the good guys here. No matter what we look like. We did heroic, good things and we should be honored for that. And we can do them again."

"Alec…they won't give us a chance to prove ourselves," Max countered. "We leave out that front gate, they'll kill us. No trial, no jury. And White is making sure we're painted out to be horrific killing machines."

"We don't go out the front gate, we go out the tunnels, we don't reveal ourselves as transgenics until we've saved the day. We make them grateful, one natural disaster, one terrorist attack, one cat rescued out of a tree, at a time. I'm not saying it will be easy or quick but it's a start."

"White will undo all the good press.." Max predicted.

"Won't if he's dealing with bad press of his own," Alec returned with a smile, looked over to Dean and the wattage turned up as a thank you for the older man's advice on the matter of White. "The second we're on the news with good press, as soon as White thinks TC is vulnerable because too many of us are away doing the Good Samaritan routine, he'll attack. And we'll be ready for him…with our defenses and a news crew out front seeing their "government" at work, attacking the transgenics who just saved the day."

"We can do this. If we bide our time, see the opening we need, we can start to sway their opinions of us. Maybe start to sway our opinions about ourselves."

For a moment silence reigned and Dean felt his chest tighten, was stopped from speaking, defending Alec and his plan by Sam's hand slipping around his arm. Looking to Sam, he read Sam's lips more than heard his brother's too soft words. "Just wait, Dean."

Standing on the stage, facing Alec, Max knew that her decision would carry a lot of weight, that lives were at stake, not just hers but everyone's in Terminal City, every transgenic's life out there in the world. Turning to the awaiting crowd, she spoke the words that had made their new nation a democracy. "Alright. Let's put it to the vote, people. Everyone up for Alec's plan, raise a hand."

Even before Max could raise her own hand, she saw hands slipping up throughout the room, some boldly, some with hesitantly, until it was a sea of raised hands.

"Opposed," she offered and there were a scattering of votes that way but Max was smiling as she looked to Alec, saw the happiness warring with his new weight of responsibility in his eyes. "Looks like we're a go for Operation Good Samaritan."

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TBC

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Honestly, I know "Alec's" plan is a pie in the sky concept but I believe change and acceptance are earned by single events. I know I've judged people by appearance because we've been taught that that is our first, "best" technique for gauging someone's threat to us. But time and time again I've been proven so wrong,…but I still need proof. I still haven't learned to toss away what seems ingrained in me. But I'm not stubborn enough or foolish enough to not change my mind, value someone who has turned out to be an awesome person…no matter my first impressions of them. Ok enough of my rambling explanation. I just hope you don't laugh me off ffnet for my lame solution to social prejudices….

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

I do promise that the next chapter has more Dean and Sam.

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	7. Chapter 7

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: Ok, as you've noticed I'm an Alec/Max hopeful. So be warned, I'm not only a sap but a romantic too. And I'm also an action junkie…Do my bad traits never end?!

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Chapter 7

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Leaning in the doorway, Alec watched Dean as he instructed five young X series how to play poker.

Sensing that someone was watching him, Dean turned and saw Alec, gave a slow, 'you caught me in the act' smile. Focusing back to his young students, he said, "Alright, lessons done for today. Tomorrow we'll go over bluffing."

Walking into the room as the younger soldiers shuffled out, abuzz with their new knowledge, Alec drawled, with a smile, "Ah Poker. The combat training Manticore forgot to teach us."

"It's a valuable survival skill," Dean defended with mock gruffness as he shuffled the deck like the card shark he was. "Sammy and I would have starved without it," he added, his smile all swagger and no regret.

Alec smiled but Dean saw that it didn't reach the younger man's green eyes. Setting the cards down, Dean leaned against the table, studied Alec who was now purposefully not meeting his eyes. "Soooo.. You going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Alec's head snapped up at that and he denied glibly, with a smile, "Bothering me? Nothing's bothering me."

"Uh huh," Dean said, nodding his head, his eyes intently on Alec, his disbelief evident. "Sam lies better than you do."

Dropping his pretense and his smile, Alec came to a stop in front of Dean, met the older man's eyes head on. "You and Sam are going to leave soon, aren't you?"

"What? No…" Dean denied. But a second later, he backed down, qualified, "Well not yet." He had to face facts. His time was running out and Sam was starting to pace around like a caged animal with every day that passed, that got him closer to his deal's payment date.

"Sam told Joshua that you couldn't stay much longer," Alec revealed, his steadfast tone and look telling Dean that he wouldn't fall for a half truth.

Abandoning his "relaxed" pose, Dean stood up, sighed. "Yeah, that's true. I was honestly hoping we could help you with the White situation before we left. If we could do some recon, figure out where his compound is…"

Alec gave a smile and spoke lightly but there was steel in his eyes. "See, I remember having this discussion before."

"Yeah and I'm hoping you'll listen to me this time," Dean bluntly returned, his frustration showing.

"That's almost funny because I was thinking the same thing about you," Alec countered, his smile in place but the resolve in his eyes had grown only harder. "We're waiting until White makes a move against TC and when he does…" Dean opened his mouth to protest but Alec's voice dropped to a menacing tone as he continued. "When he does, Dean, you and Sam are going to stay in the command area, manning the radios, watching the security cameras."

"I'm not going to be coddled, Alec!" Dean growled back. "I'm not some green soldier facing his first battle."

"No. But this is _my_ war, Dean. I followed your lead hunting because you were better trained for it. I expect you to follow my lead now. I'm better trained for _this_ war and you know it," Alec stated, felt his heart pounding in his chest, worried that this would be the break in the bond he felt with Dean, with Sam. But he couldn't put them in danger just because he was worried they wouldn't like him telling them what to do, would get their egos bruised if he led them this time.

It had been nearly two years since Dean had obediently followed his father's leadership without question, had given his father respect, not only because he was his father but because he was the better hunter. It was what his father had taught him to do, to always let the more experienced hunter lead, to not let his ego get him killed. And Dean realized that was what Alec was asking of him, to let the more experienced hunter lead. "Fine. Sam and I will stay in command but if I see you're getting overrun…"

Alec smiled, "By all means come bail my butt out of the fire," felt relief surge though him at Dean's unexpected capitulation to his taking up the mantle of leader. "Course you can't do that if you're not _here_…" he drawled, shooting Dean a look that almost matched the pleading one Sam knew how to level at him when he wanted to coerce his big brother.

Dean smirked, "Well, then start wishing for a natural disaster to rescue the nation from, kiddo, 'cause I'm on a time limit."

Before Alec could press Dean for an explanation for his words, Joshua came running into the room, panted as he spoke. "Ash, fires…Mount Saint Helens. Max says it's…….D day."

Dean looked to Alec with a raised eyebrow, "Dude, that's some strong wishing mojo you got going on."

But there was a tenseness in Alec, a weight that was settling on his shoulders at the knowledge that his plan was going into play, that every transgenic's life was in his hands. When he felt Dean's hand fall onto his shoulder and give it a squeeze, Alec looked at Dean, knew that, though the older man was allowing him to take the lead, he had his back. Would defend him against all comers and do whatever he could to see that his plan was successful, would do anything to keep safe the people Alec cared about most. Alec couldn't help one fleeting worry: that Dean wasn't perceptive enough to include _himself_ in that tally.

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With Mount Saint Helens coming to life again, leaking lava, spewing ash, causing forest fires, burning homes, taking lives, it was truly time for Operation Good Samaritan to go into effect. In the sewer tunnels of Seattle, the team that Max and Alec had quickly put together were gathered with any features that would give them away as being transgenics concealed.

"Well, it's what we wanted," Max said, looking up at Alec, a grim smile on her face. "A big press story. We can't stop the eruption but, since some of our group can withstand pretty much heat, we can help head the lava off at the pass. The rest of us can help put out the fires and help trapped people evacuate. Then when the hallelujahs and standing ovations begin, we'll reveal ourselves, let 'em know that a bunch of freaks saved their butts and they'll just have to deal with that."

"That's the plan," Alec said distractedly, eyes flickering to the gathered team, his stomach churning. Wishing he was going with them even as he feared that the worst battle might be waged right there in TC, that he had miscalculated, was about to get everyone killed. Max's hand on his cheek brought his eyes flying to hers.

"It's a good plan, Alec. The PR stuff and the White trap," Max encouraged, her conviction shining in her eyes.

"If I'm wrong…" Alec began.

"No battle is ever totally won or totally lost for either side. Even if we just keep White at the perimeter and we have to do a hasty retreat after our Good Samaritan stunt, we'll have earned something for ourselves. Pride," Max said, looking up to meet his eyes. "It means a lot, Alec. It's what I couldn't figure out how to give them."

"You would have found a way," Alec assured.

But Max shook her head, "I don't think so." Then her eyes softened as they held Alec's, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "I know I've treated you horribly, Alec, made you think I didn't value your opinions, your experiences… I was fighting you so hard because …I don't even know why. I was so set on me and Logan getting together…"

Alec caught her hands in his grasp and pulled back from her. "Let's not talk about this now, Max."

But Max ripped her hands from his grip, stood defiantly before him. "Then when, Alec? Every time I try to talk to you, you immerse yourself in some training exercise or supply recon mission or…something. I won't break if you tell me that you don't have feelings for me," she stated, but the vulnerability in her eyes contradicted her words.

"Max," Alec gave a lighthearted, but frustrated laugh. "Excuse me if I don't start writing you love poems just because this month you think you're in love with me."

"Think? Think?!" Max repeated back heatedly.

"I get that you and Logan…well it didn't pan out for you two," Alec tried to gently categorize Max's on-again off-again relationship with the cyber journalist. "And now you're feeling … I don't know, a little lost, maybe a bit lonely and then I show up. Me with my charm and my gorgeousness…"

Max punched Alec in the shoulder and began stalking down the tunnel, cursing herself for opening herself up, for allowing herself to fall for a guy that had more perimeter sentries than Manticore. '_Fool will probably get himself killed just to avoid what's between us.'_

"Well good luck!" Alec called out, giving a wave to Max's back and shaking the hands of some of the other transgenics as the team started moving out. He gave Joshua a pat on the chest. "Stay safe, Josh," he bade, meeting the taller transgenic eyes, hoping that his friend would heed his words.

"Alec stay safe too," Joshua returned with seriousness, worry in his brown eyes as he reached out, gave Alec's cheek a gentle pat with his huge hand before he started after the departing team.

But as Alec watched the team head down the tunnel, he frowned when Max halted in her tracks. He watched with trepidation as she dropped her bag and stalked back to him. "Great, now what?" he muttered under his breath, bracing for round five thousand five hundred with the hot tempered X5.

"Let's get something straight between us," Max growled, managing to seem menacing even when her small stature was face to face with all of Alec's 6" frame. "I'm not _lost_, I'm not on the _rebound_. I broke things off with Logan. Me."

Alec raised his hands in acceptance, "If that's the story you're selling.."

Max reached forward, grabbed the lapels of Alec's jacket. "Listen and listen clearly because I'm only saying this once…_today_." But then her eyes softened, became the eyes, not of a soldier, but of a woman, a woman in love and her voice came out soft, tender, was a tone she had never used with Alec before, barely used with anyone. "I don't want Logan. I don't want another transgenetic, or an ordinary. I want you, Alec."  
"Why? Why, Max?" Alec asked earnestly, a vulnerability in his tone, in his eyes. Max's affection, it was unexpected, had slipped past his barriers, was making him consider resurrecting a part of himself that he had buried after his mission with Rachel Berrisford.

"Because I missed you, because no one makes me madder…or happier than you." A true smile lit up Max's face. "Because you're a jerk and one of the kindest persons I know. Because you're so hard to look at…" she said on a laugh at even the notion of calling him ugly. Slowly, she slipped her hand to his face and gently stroked his cheek. Going up on her tiptoes she found Alec meeting her half way, his kiss gentle, giving, filling a void in her that she had despaired would never be mended. As he wrapped his arms around her, drew her closer, deepened their kiss, she moaned in pleasure, nearly purred.

When they broke their kiss, both of them were breathing hard. Max's smile was blinding as she pulled back slightly, trailed her hand gently down his face before removing her touch. "So how 'bout neither one of us gets ourselves killed today, alright. Give this thing between us a chance."

"Seems like a reasonable request," Alec drawled, but there was a tenderness overshadowing the brazen smile that he offered to her. Giving her a quick kiss, he released her, tried hard to memorize her smile, the smile she had just for him. Then he watched as she turned around, walked away, scurried to catch up with the departing team and took her place beside Joshua.

Alec nearly jumped when Sam spoke behind him.

"Looks like Dean was right. You don't have _his_ charm…you have mine."

Looking to Sam as he came to his side, Alec asked, "Is that the good news or the bad?"

"Depends which Winchester you ask," Sam laughed and Alec knew it was a rare sound of late. "But if you end up with the girl, I think we'll both approve of your methods." Alec smiled and nodded his head but Sam watched as seriousness clouded Alec's green gaze.

"What aren't you and Dean telling me, Sam?" Alec asked without deflection, knew he had a better chance of getting an answer from Sam than Dean.

Sam looked away, wasn't sure how well fortified his walls were to someone who knew him as well as Alec had come to. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alec stepped closer to Sam, spoke gently because he sensed the topic was something hurtful to the youngest Winchester. "You're scared, Sam. I know that," he watched as Sam bit his lip and bowed his head, not in answer but avoidance. "I'll help…with whatever it is."

Sam shook his head, met Alec's eyes with his own glistening ones. "I wish you could. I wish someone could, Alec."

"Maybe I can if you tell me…"Alec gently began to insist but Sam cut him off.

"Your place is here. These people need you."

Alec stiffened, "You mean I should stay with my own kind?"

"No," Sam refuted quickly. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying …you have your hands full with this war, with trying to _save_…," he stammered, voice catching on the word before he completed his sentence, "these people. Look, we better get back to command and start preparing for White's attack. If we're gone too long Dean will come looking for us," he said as he turned around, started to walk back to TC.

Again Alec was conflicted, torn between old loyalties and new ones, between Max and Joshua and Dean and Sam, knew that there was an impossible choice on his horizon. Because how could he abandon Max and Joshua when _they_ needed _him_? But he couldn't _imagine_ letting Dean and Sam leave without him, letting them go…especially when he had finally come to understand how badly **he** needed _them_.

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The small group gathered around the television set cheered as their fellow transgenics revealed themselves as heroes on national television, with Max as their spokesperson. "We were created to use our abilities to help people, just like we did today, just like Manticore deployed transgenics to do for the past ten years: helping with natural disasters, stopping terrorism and assignations, cleaning up toxic spills. We have always been the soldiers this nation needed us to be. Even when you didn't know we existed, we were out there dying to save your lives. And we're still all on the same side. We don't want to be your enemies."

Dean clamped Alec on the back, "Nice sound bytes and she's not hard to look at."

"Yeah, and she knows it," Alec grinned back.

Dean's reply, however, was drowned out as an explosion ripped though the command area, confirming that they had gotten White's full attention with their Operation Good Samaritan.

Choking, shoving debris off of his legs, Alec looked around, saw the overturned tables, the scattered papers, the sparking electronic equipment that had been destroyed in the blast. But Alec's heart pounded, not with adrenaline but fear, as he saw Dean was lying face down on the floor. As he started to crawl over to Dean, to his relief, he saw Dean moving weakly. Putting his hand on Dean's back, he shoved a piece of chair off the older man's legs. Leaning down over Dean, he practically spoke in the other man's ear. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean snapped back, pushing himself to all fours. Before he could guess Alec's intentions, the transgenic one handedly pulled him to his feet, yanked him forward and pressed him against the relative safety of the far wall. Realizing that Alec was standing in front of him, in the open, his eyes traveling from his head to his feet, was in fact giving him a quick military trained medical once over, Dean insisted, "I said I'm alright." Then he grabbed Alec's jacket lapel and yanked the other man to his side.

Shoulder to shoulder, they stood behind the wall's protection and simultaneously pulled out their .45 Magnum guns, slipped off the safety and chambered a round. Dean rolled his head in Alec's direction. "Guess White didn't feel like knocking on the front door."

"Or doing a nice, quiet, covert attack. This isn't going to make us look like peace loving freaks…killing G men," Alec pointed out, shaking his head as his plan seemed to be backfiring on him.

"The live news crew out front is documenting that the White drew first blood, not you. That it was an unprovoked attack." Seeing Alec looking at him with hard eyes, Dean shrugged, "OK. So none of that matters to anyone but us. But on the other hand, you wanted to smoke out White. I think this is a real good sign that he's taken up your invitation to come out and play."

Running into the room from the other side, Sam slid on some of the paperwork that littered the ground, stumbled at the sight of the devastation. "Dean?! Dean?!" he shouted, shoving a path through the debris, a frantic, desperation in his voice, in his motions.

"Over here Sam," Dean called, watched Sam's eyes instantly fall upon him and felt a twisting in his gut when he saw the happiness spring into Sam's eyes, the relief…. just at seeing him. As Sam stumbled, crawled and jumped his way across the room to him, Dean couldn't help wondering how he thought for _one second_ that, in a few months time, he could leave Sam without hurting him.

Falling into place against the wall at Dean's side, Sam gave a quick assessing glance to Dean, then Alec. Satisfied that they were alright, he pulled his own gun. "So much for Dean and I hiding out on the back lines of the battle," he said, looking at the destruction of the command room, the perceived 'safe back line' more closely now that his terror had been mollified.

Spotting the transgenics popping up around the room as they recovered from the explosion, Alec began giving orders via hand signals. Watching his orders obeyed without hesitation, Alec knew they weren't simply his fellow mutants, they were soldiers in a war that they didn't want but knew how to fight. In that moment, he knew that the other transgenics were _his_ soldiers. It was a heady feeling even as it was an oppressive one, because he valued their lives, didn't want to see them die …for him or because of him.

Turning back to meet Dean's gaze, Alec said, "I'm going to the south perimeter. You two stay here…unless you hear more incoming heading your way."

"I think we know when it's OK to break rank, General Winchester," Dean replied, a smug smile on his face.

At being given the Winchester name, even in jest, Alec froze, looked to Dean with shock and hope.

"Ah… thought you had someplace to be?" Dean urged with a raised eyebrow, breaking Alec from his stupor.

"Right, I have…I'm going" Alec stammered and then he pushed himself off the wall, used his litheness to make his way out of the room like its floors were bare.

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Taking cover behind a burned out car, Alec heard the plunk of the bullets as they sank into the car's frame. Signaling to the soldiers behind him, he saw them flank out as ordered, grimaced as he saw one soldier get shot. Springing from his cover, Alec swept his arm in a small radius, took out three of White's men as they slipped through TC's short-circuited electric fence. A barrage of bullets intended for him sailed harmless over him as he dove forward, ended up crouching behind a dumpster. Readying himself to make another offensive, the sound of a helicopter stopped him.

Pulling his radio, he announced to his fellow soldiers, "We have a bird inbound." Looking to the sky, he strained his ears to try to predict its approach. "I think it's coming in from the north. Everyone hold your positions. I'll try to take it out."

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Hearing Alec's radio transmission, Dean abandoned his position against the wall, was determined to make his way to Alec when Sam slipped into his path.

"You're not going anywhere, Dean," Sam stated, eyes unflinchingly boring into Dean's.

"He's going up against a helicopter, Sam!"

"He's got his soldiers to back him up."

"And what are we, Sam? Aren't we his soldiers right here and now," Dean insisted and he made to shove past Sam, wasn't prepared to have Sam slam him against the wall, to have Sam pin him there with his arm, to see the desperation, the fear in his brother's eyes.

"No, Dean! We aren't his soldiers, we're not his back up, we're his _brothers_. He's your brother and he needs to know you're safe." Fisting his shaking hand into Dean's shirt, Sam pressed Dean harder against the wall. "I need to know you're safe! I can't lose you…not in a few months and sure not now. Not yet, Dean. Not. Yet."

Reading the desperation, the fear, the plead in Sam's eyes, Dean put his hand over Sam's, wrapped his fingers around Sam's hand. "Alright, Sammy. I hear you. We'll hang out here, let Alec do his whole super hero gig. Let him lead his army to victory without us."

Sam nodded at Dean's acquiescence, felt like he could breathe a little more freely…until the radio kicked on again with Alec's voice.

"Crap, make that two birds and they are coming in hot." As if to punctuate Alec's words, the radio vibrated with machine gun fire.

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With machine gunfire coming from the one helicopter nipping at his heels, Alec jumped over a steel wall, stumbled back as the bullets went through the steel like it was cardboard, followed him as he moved. Dropping to lay flat on his stomach, he covered his head, felt the burn and heat as bullets almost grazed him as they flew past. "Great. Armor piercing bullets. White pulled out all the stops," he grumbled as he got to his feet, turned and ran back the way he had come. Doing a forward roll out from behind the steel wall, he crouched, and, in one breath, aimed and shot at the helicopter.

Instantly the helicopter reacted to the direct hit to the rudder, began shuddering and spinning and losing altitude. Alec watched with a smile as the bird swung gracelessly out of Terminal City's perimeters. "One Black Hawk down, one to go," he reported over the radio. But then his heart stilled as he scanned the sky. "Anybody got a location on the second copter?"

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Sam caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, was tackling Dean to the ground before he could form words of warning. The bullets that grouped behind the wall where Dean had been seconds earlier said what Sam hadn't: Some of White's men had dropped in from the hole their first explosion had ripped through the roof.

"You were talking about being safe," Dean hissed quietly, nodding his head in an order for Sam to go left while he went right.

Nodding in agreement, Sam crawled away from Dean, gun in hand, his adrenaline flowing and his instincts on high alert. This wasn't their usual type of battle, not against people, people who shot back, whose intent was to kill them. Suddenly Sam was pissed off that yet another threat was trying to take his brother away from him. Poking his head up over a desk, he took his shot at his closest attacker, aimed where his attacker's armor was weak. He watched with grim satisfaction as the soldier went down with a cry of pain as his bullet ripped into the man's arm.

Hearing the crunch of boots stepping on the debris to his right, Dean crawled under the fallen ceiling beam that angled from the ground to the seat of the couch. With his target in sight, Dean squeezed the trigger, smiled as the bullet hit the soldier's ankle, as he heard the man's scream of agony and the crash of his body hitting the ground. Crawling free of the beam, Dean crouched by the back of the couch, tried to get a location on the other intruders. A bullet tore through the couch by his cheek, sent stuffing flying. Not one to take the defensive, Dean stood up, took his shot as he ran for better cover, which consisted of an old jukebox. Though he had hit the soldier dead center in the chest, he knew the man wouldn't stay down, was just recovering from the blow to his bullet proof vest.

The sound of gunfire in the room was loud but Sam knew instinctively which shots were his brother's. Dean was still OK, was busy doing what he did best: taking down evil. Keeping low, Sam skirted the outside of the room hoping to get a better vantage point. What it earned him was a clean line of sight of the helicopter coming to hover overhead the hole in the compound's roof. Rising, he put a round into the side of the helicopter but the consequences were dire as the machine gun in the copter swung his way. "Oh crap!" he exclaimed, diving for cover, feeling plaster and lead filling the air as the bullets shredded the walls around him. Slithering forward, he halted as he ran out of cover when the chair he was about to hide behind was turned into a sagging bag of cotton.

The roar of the machine gun was deafening but it was nothing compared to the fear that overtook Dean as he saw that his brother was the focus of the assault. Breaking cover with ruthless purpose, he didn't flinch as a bullet zinged by, grazed his shoulder. He merely turned and took out the soldier while he kept moving. Leaping over an overturned desk, he crouched behind it and looked up. From his position, he could see the hole in the ceiling, could see the metal gleam of the helicopter, could see the flash of the machine gun but not the weapon itself, not the man making it his mission to kill his brother.

With a growl, Dean sprang forward toward the small set of stairs, took the steps three at a time. Reaching the second floor, he dove onto his back…to land right below the hole. His first shot pinged off the barrel of the machine gun but it got the weapons' focus off of Sam. While bullets ripped through the wire mesh beside him, headed his way, Dean made his second shot. That bullet hit the gun sight. Hoping to avoid becoming swiss cheese, Dean made his third shot while he rolled. Three was the charm as his third bullet hit the trigger mechanism, made the assault weapon a heavy paperweight.

But Dean's roll sent him right off the edge of the second floor. When his back impacted with the unyielding cement of the ground floor, he groaned and grimaced at the pain. Through his pain, he smiled at the beautiful silence of the gun. Immediately he called out, "Sammy, you alright?"

"Are you crazy, Dean!" was Sam's outraged comeback from across the room. But before Dean could reply, Sam yelled out a warning, "Grenade!!"

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Heart pounding, fear and dread burning through him, Alec ran down the hallway toward the command area, desperately hoping that he was wrong, that he had miscalculated the 2nd helicopter's position. Stumbling as the ground shook under his feet from an explosion, he barely registered that Mole had come out of another room, was grabbing unto his arm, was steadying him.

Sharply he remembered it all. The way the ground shook, the heat as Berrisford's car exploded, the knowledge that it was his fault. That he had hurt the first person who had ever dared to care about him. That he had _killed_ the person that he had loved. '_No! No, it can't happen again!_' screamed through him and he brutally shoved Mole away. He was not going to be stopped from saving the people he loved, not again, would not allow anyone to stop him from saving Dean, saving Sam, from saving his brothers.

Running down the hallway, he could see the smoke wafting from the command room, could hear the sound of the helicopter. But the worst wasn't what he heard…it was what he didn't hear: the ominous void of the voices that had become, in the past months, so familiar to him, so treasured. He was shouting their names before he crossed the room's threshold. "Dean!! Sam!!"

Even amid the smoke, Alec could see the new devastation to the room, was shaken down to his core at the sight of the room where he had left the people he wanted most to protect. He found himself stumbling over the broken furniture littering the floor, his catlike balance undone by the emotions ripping through him. His voice hoarse, he called again, "Sam! Dean! Answer me!" order and plea mixing together.

"Over here," came from his left and instantly he made his way to the wall, found Sam pinned, facedown, under a section of a table. Bending down, Alec, with a growl, heaved the table off the taller man, ran his hands down Sam's lower back and legs in inspection even as he asked, "Are you alright? Is anything broken? Can you move?" But at his words, Sam's head snapped around and Alec felt caught in Sam's piercing focus, felt somehow that he wasn't the person Sam expected to be his rescuer. Sam's confused, almost croaked inquiry confirmed it.

"Alec?"

"Yeah, are you hurt badly?" Alec asked worriedly as Sam turned carefully around, sat facing him, wearing a look of uncertainty, confusion, fear. Reaching his hand out, Alec intended to touch the bleeding cut he could see on Sam's forehead.

Flinching away from Alec's touch, Sam stammered, "But they radioed that they had you…494. That's you right?"

Instantly Alec choked out, "No," as he came to his feet, as his eyes searched the ravaged room. "No, no, NO!" he shouted, leaving Sam's side, starting to move through the room with frantic purpose. "Dean?! Dean?! Please be here, man. Dean?!" he cried out, shuffling through the debris, scouring the floor. When his eyes flew to the second level of the command room, his enhanced vision perceived the bullet torn metal of the 2nd level's mesh flooring.

Quickening his pace, heading for the stairs, Alec faltered when his foot kicked something lying on the ground. Looking down, seeing what he had kicked, he felt vertigo hit him, fought hard to not let a sob escape him. Slowly bending down, he reverently picked up the silver .45 Magnum. Dropping to his knees, he rested Dean's gun on his lap and ran his shaking hand over the pearl handle, the engraved barrel. His worst nightmare was happening.

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TBC

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I did mention something about being an action junkie right? Hope I did OK writing it. Seeing it in your mind's eyes is so much easier than penning it down! And I've always wanted Dean and Sam to be caught in a horrific gun fight…cause I'm a sadist.

I know, Dean doesn't "look" exactly like Alec but let's face it White's men are doing the ID process in a room full of smoke and with the threat of getting shot making them a little anxious for a hasty abstraction.

And I honestly hoped to get this story all posted before the Season 4 premiere but that's just not going to happen. Therefore this AU is going even more AU as I make up my own ending of Season 3/start of Season 4. I blame the delay fully on the slowness of my muse…(One small shining point…those of you who, like me, avoid reading spoilers won't have to worry about this story revealing any Season 4 plotlines..I know small consolation but it's all I have to offer. )

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!!

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	8. Chapter 8

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay but I just kept rewriting this chapter…not sure if it's right yet …. And personally, I have no idea when this nice brotherly sap fic turned the corner into action but it has. But I can't leave poor Dean in the clutches of White, right? Let the action continue?

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Chapter 8

SNDASNDASNDASN

Slowly bending down, Alec reverently picked up the silver .45 Magnum. Dropping to his knees, he rested Dean's gun on his lap and ran his shaking hand over the pearl handle, the engraved barrel. His worst nightmare was happening.

His ears still ringing some from the grenade blast, Sam, heart thundering in his chest, struggled to his feet, Alec's panicked voice muffled, the world around him surreal. Across the room's carnage there was no sight of Dean, only Alec running to where Sam had last pinpointed his brother's position. But as Alec skittered to a halt, when Sam noted the minute tremor that shook the younger man's back, he felt cold dread slice through him.

'_No. It doesn't happen like this. It doesn't happen like this!_' Sam denied as he stumbled forward, equally desperate and loath to see what Alec saw. When Alec slipped from his view, bent down to touch something or _someone_ on the floor, Sam burst into a run, leapt over wrecked furniture strewed around the room, brutally shoved anything out of his path to Alec…to his brother. "Dean!?" burst from him, needing to hear Dean's grumbled 'I'm alright', to even hear his brother's groan of pain, to have some prove that Dean was there. "Alec, did you find him? Is he OK?" he frantically asked a moment before he came upon Alec, kneeling on the ground, head bowed forward.

Chest heaving, heart pounding, Sam's call of Alec's name was a whoosh of air. "Alec?"

At Sam's call, Alex opened his eyes, raised his head. Gripping so tightly onto Dean's gun that it was leaving an impression in his hand, he stood up, turned and faced Sam, could feel the panic, the fear rolling off of Sam. Knew that it was his fault, everything. "White has him," he quietly announced, fear and culpability shining in his eyes as he watched Sam's features tighten at the news. "Sam, I'm sorry," he choked out, "White's men thought he was me."

Digesting the news, Sam swallowed, tried to keep himself locked down, to not jump to conclusions. "What will White do with him?"

Unable to even let himself _think_ about an answer, Alec stated instead, "White will know Dean's not me."

Terror coiling in his chest, Sam lowly asked, "Is that the good news or the bad?" his eyes searing into Alec's, demanding the truth.

With a grim set to his features, Alec tucked Dean's gun into his waistband and turned away from Sam, headed up the stairs to the second level of the command center. Without sparing a glance to Sam, he sharply returned, "We need to find Dean," his actions, his words an answer to Sam's question in and of itself.

"Ah..great plan. But if you didn't know how to find White before the attack, how are you going to find him now?" Sam bitterly accused, voice rising. Starting to cross the room toward the second level stairs, he watched Alec shove plaster off a computer.

"I couldn't find White but I can find Dean," Alec resolutely replied, focusing on the computer, his back now to Sam.

"How?!" Sam demanded, fear making his voice sharp, his nerves taut as he looked up to the second level, to Alec.

"I put a tracking device in Dean's boot…put one in yours too," Alec admitted nonchalantly, concentrating on the computer that wouldn't start up.

Stilling, Sam looked up at Alec as the transgenic bent over the computer. "Wait…you _bugged_ us?"

Alec tore his attention from the computer to meet Sam's incredulous expression, gave a smug smile. "I never had any pets when I was kid, so this whole 'keeping things on leashes' ..it just sounded like fun."

Sam gave a short, bitter laugh. "Dean will be _pissed_ when he finds out."

"Yeah, I know," Alec returned, smile still in place as he turned his attention back to the computer..the computer that wasn't coming online. "Start up already," he grumbled but then he saw it…the hole in the side of the hard drive. "No!" he growled, slicing his hand across the table of electronics, sending the computer to the ground.

Unprepared for Alec's actions, Sam flinched, found that watching the usually calm Alec explode in anger, frustration, fear only hitched those same emotions higher in himself. And he didn't know how it could be possible, but he understood that things had gotten worse, that whatever hope Alec had clung to was evaporating faster than the smoke in the room. "Alec?" he asked gently because, crap, Sam knew about disappointment, about fear, about foiled plans, about the screwed up luck of being a Winchester.

Standing on the second level, his back to Sam, Alec stood there, frozen, breathing hard, the gentle call of his name from Sam like a knife through his heart. He didn't deserve Sam's compassion, not when Dean was missing, was _gone_ and he couldn't find him. Not when he was at fault, when he had failed _again_ to protect the people he dared to love, the people who, against all better judgment, cared for him. "I should have never gotten you two involved in this!" he growled in anguish, swinging around, ready to face the condemnation in Sam's eyes that he knew he deserved. But understanding and mirrored anguish reflected up from Sam's gaze.

"Alec, Dean and I both made the decision to come back here with you. Dean even helped you plan this invitation for White," Sam quietly countered, knew that he couldn't dwell on his own regrets, could only deal with the here and now.

Eyes meeting Sam's, Alec snapped, his voice hard, bitter, "You going to feel this forgiving if Dean's dead?" And the accusation, the hatred wasn't for Sam, wasn't in condemnation for Sam's reaction, was for himself, was all for him. Because if Dean died, if White killed him….Alec knew it would break him worse than Rachel's death had. Knew just as certainty that Sam's sorrow, Sam's anger at losing Dean, it would be greater than Rachel's father even had the _capacity_ to feel.

Stunned by Alec's question, Sam found he couldn't answer, didn't want to _think_ about Dean being dead, about the blame that he would undoubtedly level at Alec…and himself if the worst happened. Without his notice, Alec had reached his side, was there watching him, was probably gauging the emotions flickering across his too open features. Lifting his eyes to Alec, he breathed out, "We can't let that happen, Alec. We have to _save_ him."

Meeting Sam's eyes, hearing the desperation, the plea, the need, the faith in Sam's words, a weight settled on Alec, heavier than he had ever bore before. Sam was counting on him, _Dean_ was counting on him. This wasn't just about completing a mission, about surviving, this was about loving someone more than he loved himself. This was about family, about what you were willing to do, to risk, to sacrifice for family.

Pulling a smile onto his lips, Alec drawled, "Alright, then," like it was that simple, that nothing would stop them now that the decision was made. "Boy are we going to have to taunt Dean about this, him needing us to save his butt," he said with a smile, like he relished the upcoming banter wit the older Winchester. "Now I know someone who can help us with the tracker," he said, was turning away to head from the room when Sam's hand latched onto his arm. Meeting Sam's eyes, Alec saw something shift in Sam's eyes, saw hope resurface, saw that more light was shining in Sam's eyes.

"Alec…thank you," Sam reverently said, feeling like, after months of despair, of fear, there was hope on the horizon. That while he had come to doubt that _he_ could save Dean from the deal, he felt a flash of belief that _they_ could, he and Alec, he and Alec and Dean. That Dean was right again: they were stronger as a family. But first things first: they needed to get Dean back from White.

And if White had hurt his brother…Sam's felt cold rage prick along his skin. Remembered the wash of emotions he had when he killed Jake, knowing in his heart what Jake's actions had led to, reading it in Dean's eyes before they dropped from his gaze. That Jake hadn't just killed him….he had killed Dean too.

Watching Sam, Alec fought down a shiver as Sam's expression hardened, became something lethal. Though he knew how to kill, Alec was just learning what it felt like to hate, to want revenge. But Sam, he knew those things intimately. Latching onto Sam's shoulder, Alec drew the older man's gaze to him. "Hey, if anyone can hold his own against a genetically enhanced bureaucrat, it's Dean. He'll buy us the time we need to get to him, Sam."

Sam gave a weak smile at Alec's encouragement. "He's also really good at pissing people off."

Alec gave a smirk, "I knew that trait of mine had to be hardwired in my DNA. Come on, we have a big brother to rescue," he bade, earning him a smile from Sam before they left the decimated room at a run.

SNDASNDASNDASNDASNDA

Having never been a fan of getting Tazzered, and that was _before_ he had deep fried himself trying to take out that Rawhead nearly two years ago, Dean groaned as his pain receptors came back online and consciousness returned. Opening his eyes, he found his vision was all grey, tried to blink color back online. It took him several blinks to realize it was the wall in front of him that was grey. Pushing his hands under him, he sat up, winced as his muscles screamed in protest.

"Friggin' Tazzers. They should be outlawed," he grumbled as he got to his feet, steadied himself off..a grey wall. "Love what you've done with the décor!" he shouted inside his cement wall cell, the only light bulb overhead and the only break in the monotony a steel door…with no inside knob. He straightened to his full height as the door swung open and he faced the muzzle of two M16 rifles wielded by two soldiers in black body armor. "Hey I know you two…I think I saw you in that Ninja movie with Chuck Norris."

A black man dressed in a suit and tie stepped behind the two soldiers. "Move out of the cell," he ordered.

"Gladly," Dean drawled as if it were a relief. He had additional prodding to follow behind the suited man across the warehouse's expansion when two additional soldiers preceded him even as the two original soldiers trailing at his back, all four of their rifles trained on him.

Walking past a helicopter, he saw three suited men talking, one who had his back to him. Taking in his surroundings, Dean noted that this part of the warehouse was empty except for the helicopter and one lonely chair, which was bolted to the ground.

At Dean's approach, the man who had his back to him spoke even as he waved the other two men back. "494. You're harder to kill than I gave you credit for."

"Apparently he's harder to _catch_ than you gave him credit for too," Dean drawled, defensive of Alec, felt a surge of relief that he was there instead of Alec. He saw the sudden hitch in the line of the man's back, the tension..the surprise. But there was no emotion on the man's face when he turned around, except in his eyes.

"You're not 494."

"But I know who you are. _Mr. White_. That sounds so cold war covert. Couldn't you come up with a better name or weren't you allowed to pick it for yourself?" Dean taunted with a smirk.

Stepping up to Dean, White growled in his face, "Who are you?"

"I'm the kind of results you got before everything went production line. When Manticore took pride in its work," Dean boasted with a wide smile.

"Check his barcode.." White barked but Dean laughed even as the black man roughly pushed his head forward.

"Sorry no bar code," Dean glibly announced, and when his head was brusquely released, he looked up at White. "See I'm a work of art. I'm a little older, a little wiser, can blend in with the Ordinaries and they will never know what I am. You know like the second Terminator. I mean Arnie did NOT blend in. Even on his own planet, am I right? Course maybe you weren't taught modern culture like I was, you know "to fit in". Dude, your snake cult should take some lessons from old Manticore about assimilating."

There was a flash of uncertainty in White's expression and it was enough. "Put him in the chair, test his blood," he ordered tersely.

Dean smirked as a rifle was shoved into his back. Almost lazily he crossed to the chair, sank down into it, watched without outward worry as his hands were handcuffed to the chair's back, the chair that was bolted to the ground. He didn't even wince when the black man sliced a knife across his arm, drawing blood which he gathered in a test tube. "Now don't go selling that on the black market, buddy boy," he sardonically threatened the suited man who held a vial of his blood.

Curtly ordering the four soldiers to return to their posts, White came to stand before Dean, a pensive look in his eyes. "You know I don't really care what you are or who you are."

"Ah, so you gave me this all expense paid trip for no reason. And I guess you just dropped in on Terminal City 'cause you had a desire to got your butt kicked to the curb," Dean taunted with a smile, watched as White's hand coiled into a fist and knew it was both a victory and a hazard sign. Because, though pissing off an opponent was always a goal with him, he honestly didn't know how long he would last under the assault of White's unleashed anger. He had a vague gauge of Alec's strength, but he had never had to defend himself against it. Alec had used his strength to save his life…not try and take it. White would not be such a humanitarian.

Suddenly Sam's words echoed through him, _"I can't lose you…not in a few months and sure not now. Not yet, Dean. Not. Yet." _It reminded him thatSam would be pissed if his mouth got him killed, if he didn't hang around and wait for Sam to come swinging in on a vine to rescue him. Was bombarded with Alec's words too. "_Well you're not expendable either, Dean. Not to Sam and not to me."_

Knowing that he owed it to Sam, and even to Alec to do whatever he could to survive, Dean forced himself to shrug, to sit back in the chair and cross his legs at the ankles. "But you're right. You got me. I'll just sit here while you decide my fate."

White's fist unclenched and a smile turned up one side of his mouth. "You're a cool one. I can see 494 was modeled after you."

"Perfection is always a breeding ground for imitation," Dean boasted with a smile. It was only when White turned around to confer with his two men that Dean's smile fell away, and he allowed a moment's tension to slip into his shoulders. '_One of your famous rescues would be great, Sammy or I'll be checking out sooner than either of us are prepared for. And bring Alec along…I really want to see him clean the floor up with White.'_

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Logan was used to transgenics entering his penthouse unannounced, so it really shouldn't have surprised him when he looked up from his computer to see Alec and a brown haired, taller man standing in the living room of Joshua's house. "Alec," he greeted the MIA transgenic, surprising himself with the warmth in his tone.

"Logan, I need your help," Alec opened with, a need in his voice that had Logan looking at him intently. Holding out the tracking device which was a duplicate for Dean's, Alec watched as Logan's look shifted from the device and back to him. When the cyber journalist made no move to take the tracker, Alec sighed, "I know you and Max aren't…that maybe you think I had something to do with it. But I didn't. Max's feelings are..well Max makes up her own mind."

Logan looked down, shuffled some papers on his computer desk. "So she told you. Is that why you came back?"

"No. I saw the news reports on the transgenic lynch mobs…on the siege and I thought…" Alec, feeling Sam shift impatiently at his side, switched gears, remembered that he was a Manticore soldier, but more importantly, he was Dean's _brother_. Gruffly he cut off his own explanation, "Doesn't matter. Someone's life is at stake and I need you to trace a tracking device like this one." Laying the tracker down onto the table with a decisive snap, he bore his intense gaze into Logan.

"Alright," Logan said amicably, as he picked up the device, pulled out a magnifying glass and inspected the small chip. Having apparently gotten the information he needed, Logan put the tracker and the magnifying glass down and began typing in his computer. "I can set my computer to that general frequency and we just have to pray it's not too broad or we'll be picking up pace makers."

Leaning over Logan's shoulder to view the computer screen, Alec shot a look to the other man's profile. "Thanks Logan."

Logan continued to type in the information as he spoke. "Max and I, we've been through some rough times and I thought that meant we were supposed to be together. We had ourselves convinced that the only thing keeping us apart was the virus. That everything else that we disagreed on…that made us different would just magically go away." Logan broke off, gave Alec a quick, assessing look. "For what it's worth, I don't blame you, Alec."

But Alec's attention was caught by something on Logan's computer screen and he tapped the blinking cursor. "Is that the warehouse district off Mallard Drive?"

Turning his focus back to the computer, Logan leaned in close, "Yeah, looks like third…no, forth warehouse off Mallard. I could.." he began to offer but Alec was already stalking out of the living room with his tall friend. Simultaneously the two men called out "Thank you" before Logan heard the front door click shut.

"Your welcome," Logan said to the empty room. He nearly jumped when his phone rang. "Hello." He smiled at the voice on the line. "Asha," he greeted with intimate affection but his smile fell away as she spoke. "What? No, I haven't been watching the news…."

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Side by side, Alec and Sam exited Joshua's house, maneuvered down the stairs to the Impala sitting at the curb waiting for them. Already mapping out in his head the quickest way to White's warehouse, Alec was startled when Sam held out the car keys to him, the _Impala_'s keys. His eyes flew up to Sam's in alarmed confusion.

"You know the way there, I don't," Sam explained, eyes imploring Alec to just take the keys, to get them to Dean as quickly as humanly…transgenically possible.

Reading the urgency in Sam's gaze, Alec snatched the keys from Sam's hand and slid behind the wheel of the Impala. Even as Sam dropped into the passenger seat, Alec was starting the engine, putting the car in gear. With the passenger door closed, the car bound forward, its tires screeching as Alec made the first of many turns as the Impala practically broke the sound barrier.

As much as driving the Impala had been a goal of his, Alec had never wanted to earn it this way, had never wanted to drive Dean's car without Dean there, without his blessing. '_Course things are really working out the way I planned them lately. Discover you have two older brothers, drag them into a government conspiracy, get your oldest brother __kidnapped__ in your place. Oh yeah, all this, just like a dream come true, a warped -I've spent time in Psy-Ops- type of dream.' _"How do you do this, Sam?" he asked with sharp, bitter wonder, shooting a look to Sam, who raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Care so much, risk so much. Face losing someone you love practically on a daily basis?"

Sam swallowed, looked down at his hands at Alec's questions, at his perceptiveness. "Honestly, I …I don't know. I just do it," he lowly answered though he knew it was so understated that it was practically a lie. How many times did he tell himself that the necessity of their job was the counter to his rabid fear? "It's how Dean and I were raised, to hunt, to protect others."

"To protect _strangers_ above each other?!" Alec challenged, voice raised, hating that Dean's life was in jeopardy because of him, because Dean sought to protect _him_.

Sam's head snapped up, met Alec's quick glance, knew that Alec's statement was personal. "You're no stranger, Alec," he refuted, could see the self reproach in the younger man's green gaze. "And I know this isn't your fault." Sam gave a small, nervous smile, "Dean's a magnet for trouble.."

"Yeah, his bad luck mixed with mine, we should have seen this coming," Alec tried for lightness but Sam saw the clench in the younger man's jaw.

Silence fell in the car.

SNDASNDASNDASNDASNDA

When White came through the warehouse door, he minutely nodded his head, dispatched the three men from the room who had, in his absence, stood guard over Dean. Coming to a halt in front of his prisoner, White waited until he and Dean were alone in the warehouse before he spoke. "Test results are back," he lowly announced, waving a piece of paper in his hand as his eyes bore into Dean's.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Dean smart mouthed, watched White smile with malice.

"I'm almost going to miss your wit….almost," White drawled as he reached into the shoulder holster hidden by his suit, pulled out his gun and leveled it steadily at Dean, made a dramatic show of cocking it.

"It is one of my better traits," Dean countered, wearing a beaming smile of his own. Then, without warning, he unleashed a kick that knocked the gun from White's hand. The gun skittered across the smooth warehouse floor, ended up under the helicopter which was yards away. Before White could react, Dean surged out of the chair and, using his handcuffs as brass knuckles, he delivered a roadhouse right into White's jaw that sent the man toppling to the ground.

Planning to make the most of his opponent's weak position, Dean stepped forward, intent on letting loose a rib-breaking kick but instead he was the recipient of a kick that caught him on the jaw, put him on the ground before he even had time to register the pain of the contact. Having extensive experience fighting opponents faster and stronger than he was, Dean knew that his best weapons were endurance, his will power to stay alive and being smart enough to stay out of the kill zone. So when White stalked forward, Dean rolled left, forced White's foot to crash into the ground instead of his chest. Scrambling quickly to his feet, Dean charged forward, tackled White, sent them both crashing to the floor.

Dean landed a right punch, then a left, then a right to White's face, felt hope and satisfaction as the man's head snapped almost loosely under his blows. '_The stronger race, my butt. He isn't so tough.._' Dean told himself until White's hand wrapped around his throat and nearly crushed his windpipe.

Rolling his head to look fully at Dean, White gave a bloody smile. "Is that all you got?"

Dean struck White's face with two more punches but the man's smile when he refocused on him hadn't dimmed. Giving a choked, cry of pain, Dean wrapped his right hand around White's wrist, tried to dislodge the manacle, inhuman hold that was intent on strangling him or snapping his neck. Accepting that he couldn't match White's strength, Dean released his grip on White's wrist and slammed his right elbow into the other man's jaw, hard enough to daze White, to allow Dean to use his left forearm to collide and jar White's one handed grip on his neck. Slipping free of White's hold, Dean rolled left and climbed unsteadily to his feet, coughing, trying to get his reopened airways to work.

Watching as White arched his back and flipped to his feet, Dean skittered back, hands raised, ready to deflect White's next assault even as he dreaded it. Ducking White's kick that was aimed at his head, he did a leg sweep, was disappointed when White backflipped to avoid the tactic. "Ahhhh, that's really pretty. You're mommy teach you that along with ballet and how to cower in corners from bullies," Dean taunted.

"No, my mother was killed once she filled her duty by giving birth to me. But my father taught me this," White replied, menacingly stalking forward.

Dean held his ground at White's approach, tightened his hands into firmer fists. When White was within striking range, Dean lobbed a jab at his face…but White caught his fist in his hand, halted his punch, even with the improvised brass knuckles, like an adult would a child's. When White bent his hand back, Dean grunted in pain, felt himself being levered to his knees and knew that was the last place he should be if he wanted to live. Purposefully dropping his right hand, Dean removed White's leverage and sent a roundhouse left into White's jaw. Stepping forward onto White's toe, Dean used his left hand to pull White's suit jacket over his head, used the fabric to pull White's head down…right into his upcoming knee. Shoving the unbalanced White backwards, Dean ripped his right hand free of the man's hold, retreated a few steps to get his bearings, to stay out of White's attack radius.

Bringing his head up to look at Dean, White wiped at the blood streaming from his nose casually like he had received the injury playing a harmless game of basketball. "Not bad for an Ordinary but you and I both know how this is going to end. The truth is, I've just been playing around with you."

"Yeah, sure you have, keep telling yourself that," Dean challenged roughly, hating that his voice was rough from the near strangulation, that his head was ringing and he couldn't drown out the thought that White was telling the truth. "You really shouldn't underestimate your opponent. You left my paperclip in my back pocket _and_ handcuffed me behind my back. It was almost embarrassingly easy to get free. If you're the improved race…I think you owe the government a refund."

Instead of verbally refuting Dean's statement, White replied in action, flipped forward twice so fast that he was nearly a blur. Even as Dean tried to predict where White would land, the cultist did an acrobatic flip over Dean's head, came to a crouched landing at Dean's back.

Before Dean could swivel around, guard his flank, White sent a kick into his kidney. Stumbling under the blow, Dean used his hands to catch himself, to keep himself off the ground. But White was past giving him reprieves, was suddenly in front of him, brutally snapping his head left with a backhanded slap to his right cheek, cutting his lip, nearly chipping a tooth. White mercilessly followed that assault with a blow to Dean's sternum with the base of his palm that sent Dean flying backwards.

When he slammed onto the floor, Dean couldn't breathe, lay there on his back, hand pressed against his chest as if he could ease the pain, the crushing pressure there. '_Get up…get up…get up …GET UP!_' went through his head until it was an internal shout. But it was his next thought that sliced through his pain, made his own needs inconsequential. '_You can't leave Sam, not yet anyway, not like this.' _Imbued with determination to give everything he had to survive, he shut down the pain, forced air through his protesting lungs, rolled to his side and began to climb to his feet.

SNDASNDASNDA

"It's terrifying," Sam quietly admitted, breaking the silence in the car, earning him Alec's hit and run eye contact. Exhaling, Sam continued, "Watching Dean put himself in danger…for strangers, for you….for _me_." It was as close as he could come to voicing how it felt to be in the merciless grip of despair and the cold presence of terror without breaking down his barriers, barriers that kept him going, kept him sane, kept him from abandoning the road of good for the road of evil on the search to save his brother's life.

His look swiveling from the road to Sam and back again, Alec could read the torrent of emotions echoing off of Sam, Sam who wouldn't look at him, whose slouched posture said more than his words ever could. "Yeah, I'm figuring that out. This family thing…it's harder on my nerves than I ever thought it would be."

Sam gave a small laugh, "Well you certainly didn't get a normal, working 9 to 5, white picket fence family."

"Thank God. Maybe you've noticed but I'm not exactly normal myself. Normal gives me the hives. Nah, I think I'm pretty blessed by the family that got saddled with me," Alec said, knew the statement didn't even come _close_ to how overwhelmed he was at having Dean and Sam accept him.

"Blessed?" Sam scoffed, his eyebrows rising as he looked to Alec.

"What?!" Alec challenged. "I got two older brothers who seem to think they should protect me. Oh and they do this whole super-hero-defeat-evil gig. Not to mention I've got an awesome classic car to drive around in. Doesn't get better than that, does it?" Alec quipped but there was seriousness in his eyes, a humble gratitude. And there was pride and adoration sparking in his eyes as they met Sam's.

"How much time did you say you spent in PsyOps?" Sam laughed out in mock censure at Alec's strange notion that being a Winchester was a friggin' dance party.

"Not enough to deal with all the crazy creatures you two have introduced me to. Do we have a family rate on psychiatric visits or is it all self therapy?" Alec returned with a raised brow, even as he knew he wouldn't swap his ties with the Winchester for anything in the world..not even to avoid the "family" business.

"Definitely self therapy," Sam replied, a small smile tugging up his lips, grateful that Alec was there with him, that he had someone at his side ready to do whatever he had to do to rescue Dean.

"Should have known you two would go the cheap path," Alec sighed, shaking his head but he saw the small smirk on Sam's face.

Then, turning onto Phillips road, Alec scanned the intersection ahead. "Ok, Mallard Drive's two blocks ahead. I'm going to park around here and we can walk in." Then Alec put action to words.

As the Impala engine pinged as it cooled down. Alec pulled Dean's pearl handled gun from his waist band and chambered a round. Beside him, Sam was doing the same thing, a grim, naturalness to his action.

His heart beginning to pound anew with fear and adrenaline, Sam asked "We have a plan?" even though he felt, as the older brother in the rescue mission, he should be the one coming up with the plan.

"Yeah, go get Dean," Alec said with a smile as he climbed out of the Impala.

Sam shook his head and grumbled, "Yeah, you're a Winchester."

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

"It's really not your fault you're so inadequate," White drawled, stopping a few feet back to watch Dean struggle painfully to his feet. "Nature has its limitations, its rules. To truly excel it needs a boost."

When he finally managed to stand up, Dean stumbled back a step, came to a halt but swayed unsteadily on his feet. But when his head came up, his eyes met White's fearlessly, defiantly. He would not cower, would not back down, though he was beginning to worry that he couldn't win this battle, not weaponless besides improvised brass knuckles and with nothing helpful in the wide open space of the warehouse. Not against an opponent that could outrun him almost instantly, whose strength dwarfed his own, whose goal was to kill him, slow or fast didn't matter but his pain did. Yes, White would make it painful. Dean had easily read the enjoyment in the other man's eyes at the prospect. And the helicopter, the gun under it, they both might as well have been on the moon. They were impossible to reach…without help.

Stumbling right, Dean didn't even try to block White's kick to his chest, actually minutely stepped into it. Again finding himself flying backward, he curled himself up, landed with something almost like a drunken roll…yards closer to the helicopter. "Seems Alec was right, you are the neutered version," he nearly slurred as he pushed himself to his feet, hand bracing his broken ribs. "Guess that's why you need to wipe out Manticore's supersoldiers: They show you up. What government would hire you when they could have top of the line."

"You talk too much. That's a bad habit," White lowly growled, striding toward his prey, a smug smile on his face. "But I'm about to cure you of it…permanently."

As White came at him, Dean, sensing a killing blow was imminent, dropped to the ground and swept his leg out to snag White's. As White toppled to the ground, Dean stood up, landed a kick to White's ribs, felt bone break under his blow. But he had no time to revel in the small victory.

Easily shutting out his agony just as he had been bred to, White struck Dean's thigh with his fist, watched as the man's leg crumbled under him. With both of them on the ground, White slammed the heel of his right foot into Dean's stomach, heard the whish of air escape as the man rolled right to try and protect himself, ease the pain. Gaining his feet slowly, his hand now bracing his ribs like the unmodified human had, White walked to Dean. "You just don't know when to give up, do you?" he asked before he delivered a kick to Dean's back that propelled the man into the air for a few feet to land on the ground and roll a few rotations. "494 would have been bargaining with me for his life five minutes ago. But not you."

Dean lay on his stomach, right cheek pressed against the too cold cement floor, a trickle of his blood dripping onto the floor in front of him. Pain flowed through him and the helicopter, the gun …he could see them both. They were now only a few feet away from him.

Hearing footfalls on the cement floor behind him heralding White's approach, Dean pushed himself onto his hands and knees with a grunt of pain, his eyes on the gun, wishing for the first time that he had some of Sam's telekinesis talent, heck, that he had the force, had some way to get the gun to come to him because he was starting to realize he wasn't going to get to it.

Burning hatred flared hotter in him as he watched White walk casually by him …right to the helicopter.

Bending down, White retrieved the gun from under the helicopter with mocking ease. Tauntingly waving the gun in his hand, he drawled from a crouch, eyes level with Dean's, "Hoping to get a hold of this, were you?" As he stood up, Dean's hatred filled glare tracked his movements.

Determined not to face death yet again in a position of helplessness, pinned to a wall or gravestone, Dean used the dregs of his strength to push himself to his feet, to stand face to face with his murderer. "You think you've won something but the truth is, you screwed up," he ridiculed, blood coating his lips and pain making his voice lower than usual. "Your little commando attack today, it was all caught on television by a news crew." At the flash of surprise in White's expression, Dean gave a bloody, cocky, smirk. "So much for keeping a low profile." And he could read the rage gathering in White's eyes, felt a victory there, for himself and for Alec. He decided that, if this was going to be it, if he was going to die by White's hands, he would revel in pushing White's button. "And then you go and kidnap the wrong guy. Worse yet, I'm not even a transgenetic. Talk about sloppy."

White cocked the gun, leveled it at Dean's head. "Good thing then that cleaning up is my specialty."

Instead of retreating at the threat, Dean stepped forward, eyes boring into White's, unafraid. "This isn't a victory for you, this is a defeat. All this got you was bad press, heavy causalities on your side and the world wondering who the bad guys really are."

White's smile was forced as he slid the gun's muzzle down to rest against Dean's chest. "But none of that is going to save you."

Dean shrugged but wore a cocky smirk, "Truth is, nothing was going to save me. I was going to be dead in a few months. I should probably be thanking you because, personally, that looming over my head, it was getting pretty hard to take."

There was a flickering of uncertainty in White's eyes even as his gun remained steadily on Dean. "You're lying, you just do it better than 494."

Dean snorted and shook his head, "This is so typical. No one ever believes me when I'm telling the truth."

"Truth or not, I have to admit I have one regret…that 494 isn't here to see you die for him," White lowly admitted, his finger pressing on the trigger.

"If I had known that I was invited, I would have been here sooner," Alec's voice echoed across the warehouse's open expansion.

White's head snapped up to see 494 walking across the warehouse floor, a gun held, almost carelessly at his side.

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TBC

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Thanks so much for sticking with the story and still reading and reviewing!

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	9. Chapter 9

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: Well, I finally was able to strong-arm my muse back to work. I did discover that putting my favorite men in dire situations is awesome but getting them out of them…that turned out to be the tricky part.

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Chapter 9

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"If I had known that I was invited, I would have been here sooner," Alec's voice echoed across the warehouse's open expansion.

White's head snapped up to see 494 walking across the warehouse floor, a gun held, almost carelessly at his side. Instantly straightening his stance, White tightened his finger on the trigger, slid the muzzle of the gun up to sight on Dean's head. Wanted to make sure 494 knew that it would take only a blinking of an eye for him to squeeze the trigger, to end the unmodified human's life. "494, you keep surprising me," he drawled, ridicule in his voice instead of admiration, as he watched the transgenic approach from the far right of the warehouse.

At the sound of Alec's voice, Dean's head had snapped left. Seeing Alec _willingly_ walking into the lion's den, his breath caught in his throat. "Alec, what are you doing?!" he accused, fear kicking his heart into overdrive, knowing that, whatever rage White had unleashed on him, it was nothing compared to the retribution he desired to bring to Alec, to the young transgenic that had outsmarted him, time after time.

Retaining the smirk he wore to goad White, Alec finally allowed himself to look at Dean, to see the state of his older brother. He took Dean's appearance in instantly: the blood coating Dean's lips, staining his chin, the beginning of bruises on his face, the exhaustion and injuries that his trembling stance broadcasted, the pain in his eyes even as they bore into him with disapproval. Suddenly, hatred burned brighter in Alec than it had ever before. White had _hurt_ Dean, was seconds away from _killing_ his brother. But mixed with the hatred was vulnerability so vast it nearly took his breath away. White had the means to shatter him apart, White could do the worst thing anyone could do to him: take one of his brothers away from him.

"Guess you're going to tell me the place is surrounded by your pathetic mutant army, that I should surrender or die," White scornfully surmised. Quickly stepping forward, he pressed his gun under Dean's chin and wrapped his left hand around the back of Dean's neck, locking the human into his manacle hold. "Let me assure you, he will die first," he promised, voice low, as merciless as his eyes as they lanced into Alec.

Alec's muscles tensed and his heart raced at the venomous threat to his older brother. It took all of his training and the sight of the cool, fearlessness that Dean emanated to restrain himself from giving White exactly what he wanted: begging, a rash attack, for him to make a mistake that would cost him, not only his life, but Dean's. Raising his left hand and slowing his approach, he soothed, "Hey, take it easy. I came alone." But knowing that White would only use his fear, his attachment to Dean against him, he forced a smile onto his too tight facial features and amicably suggested, "Come on, we can work something out. We can make a trade."

At the word "trade", every alarm clamored in Dean's head. "No!" he growled, wrapping his hands around White's gun, desperate to stop his family's hopeless cycle of sacrifice, to make sure it ended with him, for Sam and for Alec. Valiantly he fought to relieve White of his gun… or to help White pull the trigger because he wouldn't let Alec die for him, for a dead man.

Surprised by Dean's suicidal actions, White fought to keep hold of the gun, fought just as hard to make sure the gun didn't fire, that the Ordinary didn't die prematurely. Because, somewhere down deep, White knew that the Ordinary was the only leverage he had against 494. Leverage he didn't want to lose, not after seeing a glimpse of barely contained lethalness in the Manticore soldier's eyes. Not now as he realized that, if the human should die in their struggle, 494 would kill him, would willingly die, if he had to, to accomplish it. Understood, with the perceptiveness of a man that had been bred for mortal combat, that with the human's life in the balance instead of his own, 494 was a thousand times more dangerous than ever before. Feared that, with that motivation, the transgenic could turn out to be his equal….or worse. 494 could actually best him, might prove himself to be his superior.

"Dean, don't!!!" Alec yelled, running forward to intervene, to make sure White didn't fire the gun, to make sure _Dean_ didn't fire the gun, that Dean didn't take himself out of the equation, didn't sacrifice his life for him. When a crack of a gunshot echoed in the room, terror and dread nearly overwhelmed Alec. It took him a horrible undetermined moment of time to realize that the bullet had missed Dean, had buried itself in the high ceiling, that White had shifted the gun in time.

His greater strength finally allowing him to regain the upperhand, White tore the gun free from Dean's hands, took a step back out of Dean's grasp and leveled the gun at the other man's right eye. "Stop or I'll kill him!!" he ordered loudly, eyes on Dean but the threat for Alec. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw 494 skid to a stop a few feet away, heeding his warning. Amid the short battle, something had become obvious, had shifted the odds. Surprisingly there was only **one** person in this struggle who thought the Ordinary's life was indispensable and White wasn't above exploiting that truth. "Drop the gun, now!" he thundered, adrenaline still surging through him at the short scuffle, at how close he had come to almost losing his leverage, unleashing an uncontrollable fury in the transgenic.

"Don't Alec! He's going to kill us both and you know that!" Dean starkly predicted, his eyes boring into Alec's. But the green eyes that met his own were wide with surprise and fear and profound devotion. Silently, Dean cursed. Alec truly was a Winchester, was going to unknowingly follow in the footsteps of the other men in his family.

Not tearing his eyes from Dean, Alec dropped his gun onto the floor, kicked it away even as he read the anger in Dean's eyes before the older man bowed his head in defeat. Hating himself for disappointing Dean, even if it was to save his life, Alec swallowed hard, then turned to White. "I'll trade for him."

"Trade what?!" White scoffed with a humorless laugh. "I already got you, free of charge."

"Fine, then I'll trade him for the other transgenics, for Terminal City's security plans," Alec offered without hesitation, eyes on White, consciously not looking to Dean, not wanting to read the disgust in the older man's eyes.

At Alec's words, Dean swiveled his look to Alec in disbelief. Trying to read the younger man, to gauge the truthfulness of his proposal, he found he honestly didn't know the lengths Alec would go to save him. Sure, he felt like Alec was a part of _his family_, was _his brother_, but Alec, he had Max, and Joshua, had apparently befriended most of Manticore. Alec had people in his life, he hadn't cut himself off from people like Dean had, only allowing Sam and his father into the inner sanctuary of his heart. No, Alec had family…and though it might _include _him, Dean accepted that it was not inclusive to him, to Sam. Told himself that he was glad Alec's threat was a sham, that Alec's loyalties had other priorities, never mind the pang of hurt that the thought caused.

White smiled, confident that he had regained control of the mercurial transgenic. "Ah, back to familiar ground now aren't we, you begging and bartering. Your little Ordinary friend here, he didn't want to believe you were a coward. Guess he doesn't know you like I do… that you would sell out anybody. That for you, taking lives is as easy as breathing," he taunted, goading Alec to defend himself, wanting to instill doubt in the human's faith in the transgenic, wanting them both off kilter.

Hands fisting at the insult to Alec, Dean started to take a menacing step toward White but Alec's sharp "Dean!" cut across his indignation. Alec's voice, so much like his father's commanding tone, had him stopping in his tracks, obeying before he consciously even made the decision.

Stepping further back from Dean, glare settled on Alec, White cocked his head to the left. "Well, now that we've gotten around to negotiations, I want 452. You bring her back here and he walks," he said, nodding toward Dean as if Alec didn't understood what was at stake, who was at stake.

Dean's breath caught and he looked to Alec, felt the tension radiating off the younger man. For Dean, the path was obvious: Alec had to agree. Had to lie. Had to find some way of walking away before White killed them both. Had to walk away from here, from him and Never. Look. Back. "_What_?! You have to _think _about this?!" Dean asked incredulously, praying Alec would get his message, would falsely agree to do White's bidding.

White smiled widely, enjoying the indecision he read on 494's features, the outrage in the unmodified human's words. Looking to Dean, he smirked. "I warned you about his loyalties. You got kidnapped in his place, are a heartbeat away from dying because of him and he's not even willing to give up his girlfriend for you."

Dean morphed his expression into one of hurt disbelief as he faced Alec, "He's not right, is he?! We're practically family! I broke you out of jail. I saved your life! Where was Max in all that? Huh? Painting her nails?! Ready to buy a seat to watch you get a lethal injection for murders she _knew_ your twin did?!" Dean challenged, stepping toward Alec even as Alec advanced toward him.

"Don't talk about her like that!" Alec growled lowly, stalking toward Dean, kept his focus on Dean even as he drew closer and closer to White's position.

Realizing almost too late that he was getting played, White barely swiveled the gun from Dean to Alec in time. "Don't take another step!" he yelled, the muzzle of his gun practically resting against Alec's chest. He was troubled to find a true smile lighting up 494's features.

A rifle shot resonated across the warehouse. Reacting faster than any unmodified human could, White dodged left, causing the bullet meant for his head to nick his ear before pinging harmlessly off the side of the helicopter. Determined to take advantage of the opening they had been given, Dean dove toward White, vowing to kill the man this time around.

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After his initial shot missed White, Sam resighted his aim, began to pull the trigger on the rifle he had had the foresight to pull from the Impala's trunk, when Dean unknowingly stepped into his line of fire. With a cry of distress, Sam frantically jerked his rifle upward and removed his finger from the trigger like it was a branding iron. Breath ragged, Sam reveled in the quiet, in the lack of gunfire, in the grace that had been granted him that he didn't kill his own brother in a botched attempt to save him.

Then, from his vantage point at the door at the far right of the warehouse, Sam watched as Alec blurred in front of Dean to block his attack on White. He saw Alec practically tackle Dean, his arms wrapping around Dean's torso as he forcefully drove Dean back a few steps, away from White and out of his rifle sights. Recognizing that Alec had no intentions of releasing his bear hug hold on Dean, was bound and determined to assure that Dean didn't move, wasn't in his sights, would not be in them again, Sam steadied his hands that had began trembling at the near fatal tragedy of a moment before. Holding his breath, he squeezed the trigger. But White rolled left and sought shelter behind the helicopter, unharmed. Through the rifle scope, he tried to track White's position, a foot under the helicopter, a reflection off the metal, a piece of fabric visible however there was nothing to aim at.

Removing his finger from the trigger, Sam shifted the scope to Alec and Dean and felt almost sick with relief. Alec had Dean. Their "hostage negotiation tactic" had worked. He didn't allow himself to think about how it had felt to look through the warehouse door and see White leveling a gun at Dean, how gut wrenching it had been to stay back and helplessly watch the man threaten to kill his brother. To know that the situation was untenable, that if he shot White, White who had hypersensitive reflexes, had his finger practically squeezing the trigger, it would have been the equivalent of killing his own brother. That Dean would have died almost simultaneously with White.

Instead Alec had boldly walked in there, had done what he promised, had given Sam an opening to take a shot, to rescue Dean, had made himself the target to do it. "_When White turns the gun toward me, take the shot Sam_," Alec had ordered and Sam had wanted to protest but Alec had growled out a command in typical Winchester fashion, "_Take the shot, Sam_!" Then Alec had slipped inside the door of the warehouse, greeted White with his smart aleck comment, willingly placed himself in the hands of the man who wanted him badly, most likely wanted to kill him. Had done it to save Dean, to save his brother and, though Sam hadn't heard the words of the exchange as Alec drew closer to the combatants, he had interpreted the tension easily enough.

But it had rattled Sam, placing all his trust in Alec, wholly placing Dean's _life _in Alec's hands. As he had watched Alec's attention land on Dean, Sam chastised himself for his lack of trust in the younger man, especially after all that they had weathered together in the past months, with the way he felt about Alec. '_Yeah, right. You didn't even like trusting Dean's life to Dad,_' he pointed out silently, remembering the times his father had proven himself unworthy of that trust, had put the hunt, had put revenge seemingly above his son's life. Immediately Sam prayed that Alec hadn't picked up those tendencies, that he was not like John Winchester, was not even like him, was most like Dean, who never put himself above his family. Never. Helplessly watching Dean wage a struggle to gain control of the gun White had jammed under his chin only brutally proven Dean ingrained selflessness, ten fold.

The sound of the gun going off had echoed across the warehouse, reached Sam like the wave of an explosion, knocking the breath from him, crushing his chest. His relief at Dean's unharmed status had him slumping against the wall. But a moment later he railed at his brother furiously under his breath, "Another one of his friggin' dead-man-walking stunts! Dean, I swear, as soon as we're safe, I'm going to deck you, man," he vowed, blinking back tears as he resighted the scope on the three figures in the warehouse.

Now, with White under cover, Alec and Dean still out in the open of the warehouse and his two rifle shots ringing through the air, Sam knew that quietly slipping back to the Impala with Dean in tow wasn't in the cards, especially when a four man squad rounded the corner of the warehouse at a run. Cursing, Sam slipped fully inside the warehouse, shut the door behind him and clicked the lock in place even as he knew it was no barrier against bullets or even a well placed kick. "Yeah, this is a typical Winchester rescue plan," he grumbled, but couldn't help feeling a little light hearted. He would bet on three Winchester any day, no matter the odds.

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Dean flinched at the crack of the second rifle shot, could practically trace the bullet's path, knew that he had been there moments before, would be there now had it not been for Alec steamrolling him backwards. From over Alec's shoulder, he watched in frustration as White escaped the shot, made it behind the helicopter.

Arms still wrapped around Dean, Alec felt Dean jolt in surprise at the rifle's report. Pulling back to look in Dean's face, his hands sliding forward to wrap around Dean's biceps, he asked hurriedly, his eyes piercing Dean's, conveying his worry for the older man, "How badly are you hurt? Can you walk?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, hating how rough, how weak the single word had come out. Hated more the disbelief and heightened worry that sprang into Alec's eyes. Felt Alec's grip on him tighten, as if Alec feared he couldn't stand on his own. "I'm good to go," he assured, forcing more strength into his words, threw in a tinge of indignation for good measure.

Standing in the open space of the warehouse with White cowering behind the helicopter at his back, Alec felt the hairs on his neck stand up, knew he was wearing a bull's eye on his back. But he stood fast, unwilling to shift even a millimeter, not when it could give White an opportunity to take a shot at Dean. Desperate to get Dean away from White, to get Dean to safety, Alec focused on discerning the truth between Dean's bravado, of assessing the obviously wounded man's ability to join Sam, to make it past White's men and back to the Impala on his own power. "Dean, I need the truth!" Alec barked, fingers biting into Dean's arms, heart racing knowing that, like chance and luck, time wasn't on their side.

"I'm hurt but I can walk on my own," Dean honestly answered, becoming acutely aware that he was dealing with Alec the soldier. An Alec that was calculating strategies, odds, escape routes, the possible number of the opposition they could face and assessing the fitness of the soldiers under his command. The cross examination would have felt demeaning if he hadn't also read Alec's desperation, his worry for _him_.

Accepting Dean's statement as truth, Alec quickly released Dean and curtly ordered, "Go to Sam, he's at the door," nodding to Sam's location across the warehouse. Reading Dean's protest, he snapped lowly, "Go before White kills us both." Instantly, he knew he had said the wrong thing, knew it as soon as he saw the flare of fear and unshakeable determination spark in Dean's eyes to nearly overshadow the hue of pain in the green depths. Cursing himself for forgetting Dean's protective instincts, for forgetting that he was talking to someone that would never agree to leave him behind, to let him face danger alone, Alec scrambled to rectify his mistake, to devise something that would get Dean moving, would sway Dean's self assigned big brother responsibilities to him. "Sam needs backup, Dean! If his position gets overrun…" he let the dire prediction hang there, saw worry and indecision in Dean's expression. "I can handle White," he steely assured, his face hardened, his eyes becoming glacier at the prospect of exacting retribution on White.

"He wants you dead, Alec," Dean warned darkly, eyes boring into Alec, needing to make sure Alec knew the stakes of the game.

"The feeling is mutual," Alec countered, his cold smile like a mask of death. "Now get to Sam's position, I'll bring up the rear," he said, giving Dean a light shove to get him started on his way.

Stumbling slightly at Alec's shove, Dean watched as Alec turned away from him and began walking toward the helicopter, toward White. Having been bitterly shown that his skill, his strength was no contest against White, that he would only be a liability to Alec if he stayed, tried to help, Dean turned on his heel and starting making his way toward where his little brother was waiting for him.

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Leaning against the helicopter, gun cocked and gripped tightly in his hold, White waited for the attack, knew that he had no where to go, was a few yards from the wall, from the cement cells he had devised to hold Manticore's pets but was no where near to an exit. And he held out no hope that 494 would scamper away, not this time, not after he had hurt, had threatened to _kill_ the Ordinary that 494 had apparently become fiercely attached to. So attached to that he had been willing to betray every transgenic to save him, had been more than willing to die for him. No, White was certain that Manticore's usually perfect, detached soldier bitterly wanted to kill him…all over the pathetic, fragile life of some Ordinary that had the privilege of being his DNA donor.

Tilting his head back to rest on the copter's metal frame, White called out, "He's not worth it, you know. He was a means to an end, that's all. Like a part from a totaled car. And as far as his longevity, he's so _fragile,_" White goaded, determined to make the Manticore solider come to him. He tightened his sweating hand on his gun before he spoke again. "I broke his ribs like they were made of straw." He gave a derogatory laugh. "I nearly snapped his neck one handedly without even meaning to. How long do you think he'll last when more of my kind track you down and capture him in the process? You should do the merciful thing for the both of you and put a bullet in him right now."

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Approaching the helicopter, Alec tried to gauge White's position from the man's voice, tried to let White's taunts roll off his back, to restrain himself from reacting. But each of White's sentences dug deeper, hit a nerve, exposed a fear. When White spoke cheerfully of breaking Dean's ribs, of nearly snapping Dean's neck, Alec gritted his teeth, every muscle coiled in him for action, and he felt rage fill him nearly to capacity. But it was White's ominous prediction of the future, of his cold suggestion that he kill Dean out of a show of mercy that stole away his self-control.

With fury flowing through him, Alec stalked boldly around the front of the helicopter, dropped gracefully into a forward roll as White fired off a shot, missing him. Coming out of the roll and to his feet inches from White, Alec slammed his right hand into White's throat even as his other hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun aimed as his chest and ripped the top section of the barrel free. Menacingly striding forward in pursuit of White, who was stumbling back, choking to get air though his abused throat, Alec almost lazily raised his arm to block White's kick to his head, countered instantly with a left jab that snapped White's head back.

Dropping the now useless gun, White retreated back from Alec, rolled his head to shake off the pain and resized up his opponent. "Well at least you're proving to be more challenging than your pathetic pet. I had to really hold myself back from killing him right away but it was worth it when he started to beg."

Alec smirked but there was a promise of death in its midst. "Holding back, huh? Is that why your mouth's bleeding, why you're keeping your arm down to protect your ribs?" To punctuate his words, Alec feigned a left roundhouse, waited until White raised his hands to block the attack before he delivered his true strike: a powerful kick to White's suddenly unguarded ribs. Felt grim satisfaction wash over him as White cried out in pain and toppled to the ground on his side. Pacing around the downed White like a predator, making sure he was out of White's strike zone, Alec snarled, "Dean didn't beg but I promise, **you will**."

Growling in outrage at the taunt, White climbed to his feet, forced himself to straighten his stance, to face the transgenic unflinchingly. "He never expected you to come for him, never thought you had the **guts** to risk yourself for anything or anyone. He had faith in you…that you would willingly let him die in your place. Guess he does know you better than I thought."

Recklessly, Alec charged for White, his actions practically welcoming the kick White slammed into his chest that took his feet from out from under him, dropped him harshly to the ground. Watching White leap into the air, knowing he planned on landing on his chest, Alec did a backward roll away from White's impact zone. Coming gracefully to his feet, Alec kicked White in the stomach, stepped forward and landed a head butt and followed through with a right cross.

Staggering from the blows, White went down on one knee. Seeing Alec's approach, he preempted his opponents strike by flipping over Alec's head to land behind him which enabled him to send a kick into Alec's kidney. Felt vindicated as the transgenic gave a cry and dropped to all fours on the ground. Taking advantage of his opponent's weakness, White flipped forward and landed onto Alec's back, sending the transgenic crashing onto the floor. Unmercifully, White unleashed a powerful open palmed strike into Alec's vertebrae.

At the blow, unquenchable agony shot through Alec, sending his vision into black and white. Every muscle he owned seemingly shutdown, refused to acknowledge any messages from his brain to move, to even _twitch_. Admit the debilitating pain, he heard White's voice from a distance and wondered if it would be the last sound he ever heard.

Patting Alec's head like he were a child he had to put easily but brutally to the mat, White came to a stand, one foot on the floor the other pressed into Alec's spine where his strike had landed. "That's what you transgenic scum lack, the taste for blood, the willingness to unleash anything within yourself that you have to in order to win, to survive." Crouching down so he could be closer to Alec's ear even as he increased the pressure on Alec's back, White drawled, "See, Manticore began to become so afraid that they were going to create monsters that they made you weak, emotional, _human._ Unknowingly they allowed you to develop morals, to having a conscious. And look where all that has lead: uprising, anarchy, you getting sentimentally attached to some guy whose only merit is his DNA." White leaned down further, whispered, "You're going to die and it is for nothing. _Dean_ isn't going to make it out of here, not without your help. You failed him, 494. Actually, you _killed_ him, just as surely as I'm going to kill you."

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Bracing his ribs with his arm, clenching his teeth again the protest his body made at the simple act of walking, Dean focused on getting to the door, to Sam beyond. Something on the floor a few yards to the left snagged his attention: the gun that Alec had discarded. Without hesitation he made a detour for the weapon, felt like fate might be starting to have a change of heart, had decided to bless him with a piece of good fortune. As he drew closer, he identified the gun as his own, the one that he had in Terminal City before the Tazzer fried him. It shouldn't have meant anything to him that Alec had chosen to use his gun, but it did, spoke of affection and loyalty and planned retribution. Things that Dean knew about intimately, knew just as well where they lead…would lead him in a few months time. It made him itch to turn back to Alec, to tell the younger man to not follow his path, to just let White _go_ because it wasn't worth it, he wasn't worth it. But instead he clenched his jaw and slowly, painfully bent down to retrieve the gun. His fingers were just slipping around the pearl handle when he sensed movement. Overriding his pain, he, in seemingly one fluid motion, dropped down to his knees, snatched up his gun, cocked it and raised it at the approaching threat.

Finding himself in his brother's sights, Sam called out, "Whoa, Dean!" raising his hands, without slowing his mad dash across the warehouse.

Dropping his hands like they were suddenly made of lead, the muzzle of the gun clanking on the floor at the action, Dean let out a shaky hiss, "Crap, Sam I almost killed you!"

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Sam lowly muttered as he came to a stop beside his kneeling brother, who tilted his head up to him. Internally flinching at his brother's bloodied and bruised features, and the pain that smothered the usual sparkle in his brother's eyes, Sam bent down beside Dean and asked, "Are you alright?" but his words were overrode by his brother's same voiced question.

"Yeah," Sam scoffed in reply at Dean's predictable concern for him, his next words revealing his frustration at his brother's habit of forgetting to worry about _himself_. "Course I'm not the one who went ten rounds with a genetically enhanced federal agent, Dean."

Ignoring Sam's barb, Dean wrapped his left hand around Sam's forearm. "Just help me up," he lightly muttered as he started to use his brother as a crutch to get to his feet.

Realizing that if he moved his arm, tried to offer Dean more support to gain his feet, he would actually do more harm than good, Sam begrudgingly held his arm steady, rose with Dean, watched bitterly as Dean did all the work to gain his feet.

Eyes narrowing, nearly closing as pain washed over him, Dean tried to control his breathing, to not let it be his tell for the pain he was in, that White had put him in. But the quiet, worried, broken way Sam said "Dean…" told him that Sam had seen through his poker face, actually did know him '_better than anyone else in the world'_ as he had claimed.

Meeting Sam's eyes, he assuaged, "I'll live, Sammy," but internally he couldn't help the tag line '_for a few months, anyway_.' But Sam flinched as if he had heard the unspoken words. Instantly that barrier was between them again, that threat that was more terrifying than White and his entire army could ever evoke in them, that abyss of a permanent separation, one that Sam couldn't rescue him from, that he wouldn't _let_ Sam rescue him from.. .

Gun shots startled them both, had them swiveling to face the door. Each squeezing off a few shots at the soldiers, they watched White's men retreat back to the warehouse's exterior.

"So, looks like we're about to have company, at least four men," Sam grimly predicted, forcing himself to concentrate on the situation at hand, to focus on saving Dean today, on getting all three of them out of the compound alive. "There a back door?" he asked, even as he wrapped his arm around Dean's elbow, scanned the warehouse's dimensions even as he propelled Dean and himself backwards, toward the only shelter in sight: the helicopter.

"Don't see one, course I did get the express tour," Dean flippantly replied, eyes on Sam instead of the threat at the door. Watching his brother's jaw jump with tension, he tried to be more helpful. "You got the bay doors," he nodded toward the front of the warehouse which contained doors that were the entire height of the warehouse and when opened, were wide enough to allow a helicopter to be towed inside.

Sam didn't even spare a glance at the bay doors as they walked backwards. "They open electronically…with a pass card."

"Yeah, course. And I left that card in my _other_ pants," Dean drawled and was rewarded by the sight of a smirk from Sam as they continued to pace backwards, side by side.

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Alec raged against White's prediction: _"_Dean isn't going to make it out of here, not without your help. You failed him, 494. Actually, you killed him…." Felt something more powerful than his genetic strength, more resistant than his healing abilities, something more basic than self preservation grow inside of him, smother his agony, override the effects White's attack had on his nervous system. At the sound of gunfire his fear for Dean and Sam encompassed him wholly, had him striking out at White even before he realized that he had regained full control of his muscles, his limbs, his body.

White was unprepared for his opponent to move..ever again. Was too stunned to avoid Alec's elbow as it impacted with the bridge of his nose and snapped his head backwards.

Quickly rolling left, Alec took White's one legged stand right out from under him. It sent the federal agent toppling to the ground on his butt at the spot Alec had been an instant before. Alec sent a roundhouse kick into White's side, eliciting a cry of pain from the agent. Slowly, Alec climbed to his feet, his stance wavering but his eyes ablaze as he dispassionately watched White come to his feet. "Maybe you are right, maybe I make a lousy genetically enhanced soldier."

With a growl, White made his move, was determined to stop playing games and simply finish the transgenic off. Running for 494, he leapt into the air a few inches from the transgenic, put his feet together, aimed them for Alec's chest. But at the last instant, the transgenic dropped to the floor, rolled under him, plowed a fist into his side as they passed one another, him on top, the transgenic underneath. Landing on the floor like a broken gymnast, limbs and head contacting with the cement and each other until he came to a halt, White breathed loudly at the agony, the transgenic's continued concentration of his strikes to his broken rib taking their toll. Raising his furious eyes to 494, he saw the smirk on the transgenic's lips, read the overconfidence that was pouring off him as he beckoned him forward with his hand, goading him. Treating him like he was the inferior one. With lethal resolve, White gained his feet, his hand pressed against his ribs, knowing that it was useless to try and conceal his weakness, the transgenic was using it to his advantage every chance he got.

"I am right," White spat out blood that was pooling in his mouth and he and his opponent circled one another. "About you…about your fellow transgenics, about _Dean_. Manticore was a failure and like any government failure, it needs to be sanitized, needs to slip through the cracks of the media, needs to be struck from the annals of history. Gone, like it never was, like you never existed." Dropping down, White swept his leg out, intended to break 494's leg but the transgenic did a flip in the air, made eluding the offensive seem like child's play. Quickly, rolling over, White sent another kick, this one aimed at 494's head as the transgenic made his landing. But the transgenic caught his foot in his hands, halted his foot like it had been wielded with feeble strength.

Mercilessly, Alec twisted the foot in his grasp, heard the crunch of breaking bone even as it was overshadowed by White's cry of agony. Flinging the foot free of his grasp, he watched as White lay on the ground, eyes shut, palms pressed to the ground. But he took a few paces back as White struggled to get to his feet, limped on the one foot but his eyes were ablaze with agony, with hatred so deep it was an endless well.

"I have the mental training to overcome pain," White sneered, limping forward, still believing that he couldn't lose, confident that his breeding would not ever yield to some backwater experiment. "My people have been around for hundreds of years, have advanced themselves farther than any race in the history of the world," he punctured his statement with a right cross that Alec dodged and countered with an uppercut that caught White under the chin, had him stumbling backwards.

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Continuing to walk backwards at Dean's side, their guns trained on the door, Sam stole a glance over his shoulder, gauged how close they were to the helicopter, to the only shelter they had when the soldiers decided to brave their fire and come inside the warehouse. His brother's urgent call of his name had him snapping his head forward, to see a grenade being tossed from the cracked door, to bounce and roll across the floor toward them.

"Sam!" Dean had shouted as the door opened, he prepared for the soldiers to dive through the opening, to start their assault. But at the unwelcome sight of the grenade, he bellowed, "Run!" his hand fisting in Sam's jacket, pulling Sam around, making sure his brother was with him as he ran for the helicopter.

Not needing more incentive, Sam slipped his hand around Dean's waist as he and Dean simultaneously turned, ran from the grenade, to the helicopter as fast as they could. They rounded the front of the helicopter to the sight of White stumbling backwards, right into a collision course with Dean's headlong pace. Reacting to the threat to Dean, Sam yanked Dean hard to the left, enough out of White's way that only their shoulders brushed. But the ruthless motion sent Dean's legs tripping over each other, left him free falling…right into Sam, his cheek connecting with Sam's collarbone as the taller man bent down to catch him.

Before Sam could straighten up, get Dean on his feet, the grenade exploded, shook the ground, knocking him off his feet, sent Dean sprawling over his legs.

Finding himself on the ground, draped over Sam's legs, Dean slid his hands under himself, began to push himself upright when saw White was on the floor only a few inches away from him. When their eyes clashed, Dean cursed under his breath, knew before White moved that the federal agent wasn't done trying to kill him, wanted to hurt Alec by killing him in front of him. Even as he struggled to get his gun out from under his own weight, to defend himself, Alec intervened.

Sensing White's intentions against Dean, Alec reacted, instinctively like the brother he had come to be. Acrobatically flipping across the distance to White, Alec came to a crouched landing at White's feet as the man sat up, was about to turn his wrath on his brother. Instantly, before White could barely register his proximately, Alec plowed the heel of his palm into White's sternum, felt the man's rib bones break away under the blow. Coldly, Alec watched as White toppled backwards, slumped onto the ground, began choking up blood as the shards of his broken ribs pierced his lungs. "But being a brother, that I'm starting to get the hang of," Alec said quietly as he scrambled to Dean's side. With almost absurd gentleness, he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and levered his brother to his feet, the brother that had fought off White's attack until they could arrive, had broken White's rib in the first place, giving him the leverage he needed to defeat White, to survive.

Finding Sam on his feet at Dean's other side, Alec looked down at White, saw the man struggling to breath, to live, his eyes nearly beseeching him. "You're dying, White, and it's at the hands of a transgenic and an Ordinary. The world is changing, but lucky for you, you won't be sticking around to see it." Then Alec began moving Dean backwards, turned their backs on White and aimed them for the helicopter, Sam pacing them.

"Time for exit strategies. Get in," Alec ordered, slipping back into soldier mode as he opened the helicopter's passenger door and started to give Dean a push into the seat. He wasn't prepared for Dean's opposition.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Dean growled, wrapping his hands around the side of the helicopter and the open door, forestalling getting into another flying contraption. "This can't be your plan," his voice raising as he looked to Alec, hoping to see a joke in the other man's green eyes.

Unaware of Dean's fear of flying, Alec glibly teased, "Don't worry, I was pretty fair at the simulations."

"Simulations?!" Dean choked back, eyebrows rising.

In the meantime, Sam had already opened the sliding door of the helicopter, hopped inside and claimed a seat. Leaning forward to Alec and Dean, he announced, "Dean has a …thing …about flying."

"It's not a _thing_…it's a healthy, well founded …" Dean began to defend but another grenade exploded, would have sent him crumbling to the ground had it not been for Alec's grip on him. Before he could fully recover his equilibrium, Alec propelled him forward and practically picked him up and dumped him into the helicopter's co-pilot seat. As Dean considered jumping free of the machine of death, Alec slammed the helicopter door shut in his face.

Latching the passenger door, Alec jumped in the sliding door, slid by Sam and sank into the pilot's seat beside Dean. Deftly his fingers started flipping switches and the helicopter's engine came alive…which provoked gunfire to pepper the side of the helicopter and ping against the bullet proof glass of the cockpit and pilot's door.

"You know how to fly, right? I mean you didn't just play video games and feed coins into a simulator right?" Dean shakily asked, frantically trying to latch a safety harness. At Alec's silence, he shot a glance to Alec, wasn't at all encouraged by Alec's wide smile as the helicopter came fully on line.

Closing the sliding door and having already buckled himself in the seat, Sam called to the front, "I don't mean to be a killjoy but we're inside a _warehouse_, Alec. This will give a new meaning to low altitude flying."

"Sam, Sam, when God shuts a door…" Alec began as he lifted the helicopter a few inches off the ground and swung it around to face the bay doors, drawing more gunfire. Looking over his shoulder to Sam, he gave a smug smile, "blast open a window." Turning back around to the view outside the cockpit, he pressed a button on the throttle. A sidewinder's smoke trail materialized in front of them, right before the missile struck the bay doors, turned them into raining confetti of kindling. With steady, expert hands, Alec sent the helicopter flying leveling forward, right out the space where the bay doors and a portion of the warehouse wall had been moments earlier.

As the helicopter left the warehouse and gained altitude, Dean drew in a sharp breath, and fisted his hands into the sides of his seat. It didn't help whatsoever when the helicopter nearly clipped the warehouse roof across the alleyway. Alec's small laugh had him turning to the younger man and accusing, "You did that on purpose!"

"Come on, it wasn't even close," Alec defended, purposefully turning the helicopter into a sharp bank to the left, causing Dean to slid left in his restraints. But the flash of pain that flickered across Dean's features at the motion to his already abused body had Alec shooting a hand out to catch his shoulder, to steady him. Instantly he felt horrible for taunting Dean, for hurting him in the process. It was just so easy to believe, even covered in blood and bruises, that Dean was invincible, that _nothing_ could stop his big brother, that Dean would never leave, him or Sam, especially when they needed him.

Appreciating Alec's support as much as Alec straightening out the helicopter, flying it straight and true, Dean spared a glance to Alec, surprised no more taunts were headed his way. But the look in Alec's eyes as they studied him… it reminded him of the look Sam gave him after his heart attack, when he couldn't hide his weakness, deny his vulnerability, when death was lurking in the shadows for him and Sam wanted to stand in it's path, was determined to literally take on a reaper to do it, to save him. His forehead furrowed in confusion at Alec's expression. They were escaping, Alec and Sam had saved him, he was a little worse for the wear but he wasn't _dying. _Dean's eyes widened at the implications, suddenly tried to gauge the timing of Alec's entrance into the warehouse with his taunt to White,_ 'I was going to be dead in a few months.' _

Fearing that his raw emotions were an open book to Dean, Alec looked away, concentrated on flying to the Impala's location a few blocks over. "Sam, I'll drop you at the Impala, and trail you until I know you're in the clear," he shouted to be heard over the whirl of the helicopter blades. Digging into his pocket, he arched the car keys back to Sam who deftly caught them.

"O.K!" Sam shouted back, unsnapping his seat harness and putting his hand on the door handle, ready to react as quickly as he could, knowing he didn't want to be a target anymore than he wanted to make the helicopter an easier target.

Putting his hands on his harness, Dean readied himself to release the latch in preparation for the welcome trade of the helicopter for the safe confines of the Impala. When Alec put his hand down on his hands, stilling their actions, his head swiveled to Alec in surprise.

"You're staying here," Alec stated, eyes sliding from the street below to Dean.

"What? Why?" Dean demanded but it came out petulant, like he felt he was being punished when the other kids got to go have recess.

For the first time in his life, Alec wanted to react like every mother he had witnessed as they interacted with their child, wanted to say, '_Because I said so_.' "Maybe you've not noticed the small army trying to shoot us down, to kill us. Call me crazy but I don't plan on making myself a convenient target for their grenade launches by hovering in one place too long."

"I can.." Dean began to protest but Alec cut him off.

"Sam can move faster than either **one** of us right now, Dean," Alec starkly pointed out, including himself in the tally, hoping to lessen the blow to Dean's self esteem. "Ok, there she is. Ready Sam?"

"I'm ready," Sam called back as the helicopter dropped altitude, was with astounding skill, lowered down between the side road where the classic car sat and the opposite building. "Sammy, be careful!" Dean ordered and then Sam slid the side door open and leapt from the helicopter to land on the ground only a few feet away. Tension surged through Dean as Sam ran for the Impala, dove into the vehicle and started her up even as Alec pulled the helicopter up from its dangerously low hover. It eased a little when Sam put the Impala in motion and Alec began to shadow his brother as he sped the Impala through the city, aiming for Terminal City.

Settling further back into his seat, loosening his death grip on his seat restraints, Dean kept a steady eye on the Impala but didn't see any hazards ahead. White had apparently never expected to be faced with a small but efficient rescue squad, his group had no backup to cut off their escape, even seemed to lack the numbers to wage a decent pursuit. They were practically in the clear. Wearing a beaming smile, Dean turned to Alec but his cocksure words died in his mouth at the grave expression Alec leveled at him.

"What did you mean when you told White nothing was going to save you, that you would be dead in a few months?" Alec lowly asked, even as the words stole his breath away, lodged a constriction in his throat, threatened the happy world he thought he had finally found for himself. Because, unlike White, he did know when Dean was lying, worst still, he usually knew when Dean was telling the truth.

The guilty, resigned look that sprang onto Dean's face decimated the last hope Alec had valiantly, foolishly clung to that Dean's words had been a ploy, a con, had been a well crafted lie for White. Instead, Alec realized Dean had saved his well-crafted lies for _him:_ the lie that everything was alright, that Dean would always be around, that they were a family..and nothing could change that, could take that away from him.

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TBC

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Whew! I actually got the chapter finished! The chapter started out more wordy than I planned but I hope the holdout for the action was worth it.

And as some of you predicted, Alec did overhear the vital parts of Dean's conversation with White. I'm not sure who I feel sorrier for in the upcoming verbal confrontation: Alec or Dean.

Well, I hope you continue to tune in as we slide from action back to angst and brotherly sap.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	10. Chapter 10

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: This is like a mini chapter but I've rewritten this angsty conversation so many times that I just had to post it or scrap it for another month or twenty. I really tried to figure out how each character would respond and then I found out I really didn't know. Hope the conversation doesn't come across too OOC.

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Chapter 10

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"What did you mean when you told White nothing was going to save you, that you would be dead in a few months?" Alec lowly asked.

Dean froze, the question stripping him bare of his barriers, his fortifications, his contingencies in case the worst happened, in case this happened: Alec finding out, Alec looking at him like he was right then, like he was destroying him from the inside out. The way Sam looked at him when he tried to be glib, tried to downplay his fate, tried to tell Sam he would be fine without him. He hadn't been able to spare Sam that pain but he had wanted to spare Alec. Had wanted to and had failed…like he had everything else lately. "You overheard that, huh?" he asked with a weak smirk even as he contemplated lying to Alec, keeping his secret longer…until it was May 2nd, until he was gone and there was nothing Alec could do, could hopelessly try to do to change his fate.

Praying that Dean's first response would be a denial, that he had misread his big brother's expression, Alec drew in a shaky breath at Dean's somber question, felt his hand tremble on the helicopter's joystick. "Dean, what's wrong? Are you sick?" Before Dean could answer, words rushed from Alec, coated in hope, in optimism. "I have nanobots in my DNA that can fight disease, repair damaged cell and regenerate healthy cells…I can give you a blood transfusion…we can track down a Manticore doctor.."

Dean hated the hope in Alec's words, cruelly snuffed it out before it spread like the worst disease known to the soul. "I'm not sick, Alec," he stated, left no room for misinterpretation, kept his eyes on Alec, watched as confusion gathered in the younger man's features. '_I don't want to do this!_' screamed through him and then he looked away before Alec could read his despair, could watch him falter, know how badly this hurt, leaving…going.

Before Dean looked away, Alec saw it, the apology, the despair, the hopelessness…the goodbye. And he railed against it, all of it, any of it. "Pardon me but I slept through Manticore's mind reading class. You're going to have to spell it out for me, Dean. If you're not sick then why do you think you will be dead in a few months?!" Seeing Dean stiffen at his demand but not face him, Alec fell back onto his smart aleck defense mechanisms, but acid dripped from his mocking questions, "You sign up for a kamikaze mission I don't know about? You been taking a Samurai class and what? The Seppuku final exam is fast approaching?"

Unexpectedly, Dean found himself snorting at Alec's comeback. Crap, it was like having an argument with himself, understood, for the first time, why Sam always got so pissed at him for his offhanded snarkiness. Turning to Alec, he expected the transgenic's emotionless mask to be in place, was blindsided by the vulnerability in Alec's face, the fear telegraphed in his eyes. Understood Alec's last defense had been his smart mouth, that all his other barriers were decimated, had been weakened by him, by his decision to let the younger man into his life, into his family. '_Left him in and now all I'm going to do is hurt him. What a bastard I am to have for an older brother._' "You sure know how to ruin a victory party. Have you been taking lessons from Sam?" he parried back sullenly, wanting to delay the inevitable, wishing he could pull one more deflection out of his hat and get back to Terminal City, grab Sam, say a nonchalant goodbye to Alec and ride off into the sunset. To leave one truth unsaid between them.

"Dean, please…" Alec entreated, was too overwhelmed by need, by dread to feel shame that his voice cracked, that he was begging Dean.

Dean swallowed hard when Alec's voice broke, when the young man that could bench press a small car looked so close to crying, to breaking down, because of him. "All I ever do is hurt the people I love," he murmured, surprising himself by speaking the admission aloud. Rubbing his hand over his mouth, he shook his head. "I should have never gotten you involved with us…with me. I should have let you go after we got you out of jail but…" Dean felt himself break, bit his lip a moment, gave Alec a hit and run, his face marred with self-hatred. "Letting go…it's not what I'm good at."

Watching Alec draw in a breath, ready to press the issue, to defend him, to force a confession from him, Dean spoke before Alec could, needed to explain, to make sure Alec understood fully what he had done…why he had done it, why he would do it all over again for Sam…would do it for Alec. "Where two roads intersect, you can do a ritual, make a pact. For what you want most....for what you're willing to give up your soul to get."

Everything stopped for Alec, his breathing, his heartbeat, his ability to hear the sound of the helicopter blades. His words came out in a breathless, imploring whisper, "No, you wouldn't, _you didn't!" _Wanting to misunderstand, to be wrong, to forget the small passage he had read from one of the books he had pulled from Sam's slack grasp when sleep had overtaken the younger Winchester.

Dean shrugged, like Alec's revulsion at his defection didn't matter, like he didn't know the unholy cost of his decision, couldn't read the pain in Sam's eye, the sick denial in Alec's horrified expression. "I made a deal and it comes due in May," he bluntly announced, refused to let regret or an apology or fear filter into his voice, taint the sacrifice he willingly…even eagerly made for his brother.

Whatever truth Alec had braced himself for, it wasn't this, wasn't this insidious, wasn't this devastating, this hopeless. "No, you don't barter with evil. I know you, Dean! You're not like me!"

"When you told me how you bargained with White to be free…. I told you then that I understood making deals," Dean reminded gently, not wanting to put one ounce of condemnation on Alec for his choices, for finding a way to survive, to be alive so that he could find him, have another little brother..if only for too short a time.

"But we're not just talking dying, we're talking about condemning your soul?!? What could be worth that?! **Nothing** could be worth that!?" Alec roared, furious beyond measure at Dean, at a decision he would never condone. Ever.

Not flinching away, Dean met Alec's angry, confused gaze head on, spoke softly but resolutely. "Sam. Sam's worth that…to me. He died in my arms, Alec. Sam died in my arms." Watching Alec's face morph into disbelief and horror and sorrow and bitter realization did nothing to make speaking the next words any easier. "I made the pact to get Sam back and I don't regret that, Alec. No matter what Sam thinks, I won't _ever_ regret that."

Alec felt all his denials dissolve. It made horrible sense. Dean would do this for Sam, would value Sam's life over his soul. Would die…would condemn his soul for love. Had done it…would do it all over again given the chance. Alec looked away, had to, couldn't stand the beseeching look in Dean's eyes for his understanding, his forgiveness. Instead his eyes dropped to the road below to track the Impala as it made its progress to TC, to Sam, who, in his own way, had tried to warn him, to prepare him for this moment.

Now all of Sam's reactions, his emotions, his pain…it all made sense to Alec, bitterly. Watching as Sam pulled the Impala into the relative safety of an abandon garage a few blocks from TC, knowing that his brother was in the clear, Alec abandoned the remnants of his soldier demeanor, allowed himself to slip back into a role that had become second nature…heck, had become first nature during his months with the Winchesters: being a little brother, being Dean Winchester's little brother.

With a breathless whisper Alec scathingly demanded, "And you expected Sam to thank you for that? For a sacrifice he would have never wanted you to make…not for him, not for anyone," he finished his eyes coming up to slam into Dean's, rage, condemnation and despair shadowing their depths.

Dean gave a watery smile, "Actually I planned on Sam never finding out…"

"Until he hears the hell hounds coming for you," Alec bitterly snapped, wishing both that he had read less of Sam's book on crossroads and wishing he had read more.

"Only the condemned hear the hounds…or see them," Dean clarified evenly, detachedly, like it was simply another supernatural tidbit he was teaching to a new hunter.

"Well sorry, you're going to have to pass on that experience," Alec growled, a lethalness in his tone that matched the ferociousness in his eyes as they bore into Dean. "Sam and I, we're undoing your dumbbehind pact. And you're going to help us, Dean."

"You can't fix this, Alec! There are rules…It has to play out or Sam will die. He'll die again, Alec," Dean said, his voice shifting from determination to a plea. It was no victory to see Alec's tenacious grip on hope fail, to see Alec's face crumble with desolation…with defeat.

Numbly Alec turned away, blindly sent the helicopter on a heading for Terminal City's fence line. Wished, in that moment, that he had never left Manticore, that he had never met the Winchesters, never knew what it was like to love someone as much as he loved his brothers.

"It's almost funny, right? Sammy's the one who's been all worried about going dark side and it ends up that it's me who's going to be pinch hitting for the other team," Dean scoffed, the words just seeping from him, knowing in his gut that Alec, of all people, could understand what it was like to be confused about what was right and wrong, about bearing the consequences for playing in the fields of both extremes. "Crap, my Dad should have been whispering in Sammy's ear on his death bed instead of mine. I'm the one that can't be saved, that should be put down. Course my using the Colt on myself would forfeit the deal and Sam would die..but maybe you or Sam could….."

"It wouldn't come to that," Alec barked, leveling a look at Dean, daring him to protest, to question his resolve. "We will stop this."

Dean didn't make a reply, knew it would do no good, instead he looked away to Terminal City.

But Alec found Dean's silence worse than a protest, like he was surrendering already, before the battle had even been waged. "You've been saying goodbye to Sam this whole time I've been with you, haven't you?" his words sad instead of bitter. "Preparing him for when you're going to be gone. And I never really saw it, never understood what Sam meant when he said sometimes people leave not because they don't love you but because they do." Dean wouldn't look at him but Alec saw the clench in his brother's jaw. "You're going to leave Sam…just like he said you would. And you're going to leave me…like I thought you never would."

Unable to let those words roll off of him, Dean turned to Alec, saw how his betrayal contorted the younger man's features. "I am sorry I'm leaving so soon, Alec, I really am," he solemnly apologized, meant it with all of his heart, because, he had come to terms with going but not with who he was leaving behind.

"Don't say you're sorry!" Alec roared, eyes searing into Dean's. "Don't tell me what you've been telling Sam, that I have to let you go!"

Quietly, Dean asked even as he knew no words could undo the hurt he had inflicted on Alec, "Then what do you want me to say, Alec? If I break the deal, Sam will die and that's just not happening."

Alec shook his head, smirked but it was a travesty on his sorrow drenched features, "I keep making the same mistakes. With Rachel, with you. Thinking that if I dared to care about someone they would stay with me, would have to stay with me, that life wouldn't be cruel enough to take away who I love…not twice," his voice cracking on the last two words.

Remorse saturated Dean, remorse that he was hurting the people he loved, that he had let Alec get this close to him, that he hadn't left before he had been backed into this confession. "You're not losing Sam. You and Sam will have each other and you'll see that you're fine without me. But I would be lying if I said I didn't wish that I could stick around to see you win equal rights for you and your Manticore alumni," he said with a true smile, proud of Alec, wanting his little brother to know that, to know he wanted a good life for him "And to see you and Max have little transgenics running around, terrorizing all …"

Alec's gave a choked, heartbreaking laugh. "How can you be so blind?! Sam's broken **now**, just **thinking** about you leaving. And me, I've just found you and now I'm supposed to let you go like you mean nothing to me?! You made me think we were family! Were **brothers**!"

"We are brothers!" Dean thundered back, angry that his loyalty, his love for Alec was in question.

"Well when I dreamed about having a big brother, I thought he would be someone who wouldn't leave, who would protect me, who wouldn't just lie down and die…not when he knew I needed him," Alec shot back, mercilessly watching Dean flinch at his words. "That's the big brother I want, that's the big brother I thought I had finally found."

Tearing his look from Alec, Dean returned, his voice raw, "Well I guess you were wrong."

At Dean's reply, Alec clamped his eyes shut, felt his tears slip free anyway, felt his emotions ready to do the same. This just couldn't be happening, couldn't be happening again to him. Knowing how futile it was to wish to undo the past, to unmake bad decisions, he resolutely opened his eyes, wiped his tears away and flew the helicopter into Terminal City. But as the helicopter skids touched ground, he felt the desire to wound Dean like he had been wounded, to make Dean believe that he wished to undo the past, that he would sacrifice any happiness that he had found with Dean and Sam just so he wouldn't have to feel this agonizing grief.

Without looking to Dean, Alec growled out, "I wish I had never met you." Not brave enough or cruel enough to see the effect his words had on the older man, he slid from the helicopter, didn't hear Dean's remorseful words.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Dean mumbled as he watched Alec walk from the helicopter, from him. Sat there as Alec pushed through the gathering crowd, watched him skitter away from Max's touch…her presence. Knew that Alec would refortify his wall, would cut off Max, and Joshua and Sam, would cut himself off from caring again, would do it because of him, because of his failures and his choices. Would do it because, no matter what, they **were** brothers, there was a connection between them and they couldn't change that, not now, not anymore.

'_Yeah, well, love sucks and being a Winchester sucks even worse, kiddo. You'll get used to it,' _Dean thought. But he knew that, when he was gone, Alec wouldn't ever turn his back on Sam, that his brothers would tighten up their ranks, would be a unified front against anything the world threw at them. That, no matter what Sam and Alec thought, they could soldier on without him. It was just what Winchesters did, whether they wanted to or not.

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TBC

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Again, I'm sorry this was so short and maybe I should apologize for the angst..and the whole content of the chapter….It certainly makes me appreciate the true SN writers more…they make these emotional scenes seen so seemless….or is that Jensen and Jared doing that? Actually, I say it is the gorgeous men. Those boys can certainly act!!

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews from last chapter?!?!? I am still in happy awe that you're enjoying this story?!

Have a wonderful day!

Cheryl W.


	11. Chapter 11

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's Notes: Sorry that it took me some time to get this chapter down. I had to make sure I didn't write myself into a corner!

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Chapter 11

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Alec nearly stumbled out of the helicopter in his haste to get away from the cruel truth, to the hurt he had inflicted on Dean, to the acid like grief that was burning a hole through his heart. Brutally he shoved through the curious Terminal City onlookers, hating them for being there, for thinking they had a right to watch him come apart. When Max stepped into his path, her dark eyes filled with concern, with compassion _for him_, it was nearly his undoing. He didn't deserve that from her, from anyone. Easily, angrily he eluded the hand she reached out to him, walked by her like she meant nothing to him, worse, that she repulsed him, concealing that it was not her he hated but himself. Always himself.

Breaking free of the gathered crowd, he ached to run as far and as fast as he could, to leave everything behind, to tear out the part of himself that had, without his permission, adopted the compulsion to love, to let his happiness be so coiled with another soul that it could be stolen from him, forever. Slamming through the TC doors, he came up short as he realized what his anger, his despair had made him do. '_Dean's hurt and I just left him_.' The cynical Manticore soldier buried in his soul hissed, '_left him dying'_ because mercy was an unknown component in those dark, molded depths of himself. Closing his eyes, hands fisting, he wanted to yell, to do something to make the crater in himself stop growing, to undo the words he had said to Dean, to be a better brother to Dean in the so very short time he had left.

He started at Dix's voice, eyes flying open to see the smaller mutant transgenic coming down the hall toward him.

"Hey, Alec, heard you came in on a sweet ride? Bet White's pissed. He's down two helicopters now."

Roughly, Alec fisted the shorter transgenic's shirt in his grasp, pulled him closer as he leaned down, fiercely ordered "My brother's _hurt_. Go help him. Now!" He punctuated his words by yanking Dix forward towards the doors, towards Dean.

Released from Alec's grip without warning, Dix nearly fell against the door. Giving Alec one scared look, he burst out the door like a Manticore assassination squad was on his six.

Cursing, Alec stalked down the barren corridor, away from the doors, away from TC's population, away from Dean. But in his heart, he knew he could never go far enough to stop the hurt, to stop the nearly paralyzing fear that Dean's confession had surged in him. Suddenly he remembered being reprogrammed after the Berrisford mission. Remembered the physical pain, remembered the way he welcomed that pain. Wanted to let them wipe his mind clear, to make it all go away, to succumb to the drugs, to the isolation, to anything just so he could get to that flickering moment in time when he didn't care anymore, about anything…or anyone. Even himself.

Not for the first time, he cursed Max, cursed her mercy, cursed her victory, cursed the day Manticore had been decommissioned. There he had belonged, had known what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to _feel_. And if he treaded off the trail, they hauled him back, set him back on course, gave him his course. Here, free, he was lost, adrift, wanted so many things that he couldn't keep hold of, that he never should have reached for in the first place. Out here, he had done the worse thing: he had dared to hope, had dared to love.

Abandoning his restraint, Alec broke into a run, blurred through the corridors, determined to run until he couldn't go any further. Until he found a place to hide, until he rediscovered who he _was_ if he wasn't a Winchester.

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Running across the open expansion of Terminal City's macadam frontage toward the helicopter, Sam ruthlessly pushed through the crush of transgenics. Ducking under the whirling copter blades, he yanked open the door with urgency, surprised and a bit worried that his brother had not already made his escape from the flying death trap. When Dean didn't look at him even when the door opened, kept his eyes forward, kept himself still, Sam frantically stepped onto the copter skid, nearly climbed into the helicopter as he called out "Dean!" one hand wrapping fiercely around Dean's wrist while his other hand fell onto Dean's shoulder.

When Dean broke from his immobility, looked at him, the relief that action instilled in Sam was dismantled by the sorrowful look in his brother's eyes. "Dean, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked, glancing to the other helicopter seat, hoping to get some answers from Alec. At the vacant seat, his eyes flew to Dean. "Where's Alec?"

Dean swallowed, but his voice was still a rough croak of sound when he made his answer, "He left, Sammy. Got as far away from me as quickly as he could."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. That didn't make any sense. At all. Especially when Alec knew Dean was hurt, would need help getting out of the helicopter, whether the stubborn fool wanted the help or not. "What? Why?" he asked in utter bafflement, but he saw it then, the flash of anguish in Dean's eyes. And suddenly, he knew what Dean was going to say before he said it.

"He knows about my deal, Sam," Dean miserably announced, knew he shouldn't have been surprised to see pain spark in Sam's eyes before his little brother looked away. It was a bitter reminder that it wasn't just Alec he was hurting, that there were more ramifications to him saving Sam than he could have ever predicted. "And to say he's pissed would be a major understatement," he tried to lightly drawl, knew even as he spoke that he was hoping Sam would offer him sympathy, that Sam would have his back in this situation, like he had so many other times. Sam didn't let him down.

Eyes moving again to meet Dean's, Sam gently justified, "Dean, he's hurting." He knew only too well how Alec felt right at that moment. The hurt, the anger, the fear, all vying for supremacy: It was a war he fought daily within himself.

Before Dean knew it, the next words escaped him. "He said he wished he had never met me." Instantly hating himself for throwing himself a pity party, for sounding so friggin' broken, so hurt, he gave a forced laugh. "That's almost funny coming from my clone, right? Considering if he never met my DNA he wouldn't even be alive…"

Sam easily saw through Dean's forced levity, could feel his brother's hurt that went to depths that Dean didn't want anyone to even know he had. "Alec didn't mean it, Dean. I would stake my life on it. Come on," he gently said, tugging on Dean's arm, urging Dean to leave the confines of the helicopter.

"Nah, stake my life on it. It's already on the chopping block.." Dean muttered, not dislodging Sam's hold as his younger brother slipped his arm around his back to guide him as he slid from the helicopter to terra firma. But the action jarred his broken ribs and he knew he wasn't successful at concealing his grimace when Sam practically velcroed himself to his side.

When Sam shut the door and maneuvered them to face the TC buildings, Dean wasn't prepared to be the center of attention of the transgenics still gathered around the helicopter. Then the crowd was being pushed aside, was forcibly being parted like the Red Sea. And for a moment, he let hope flare in him that Alec was returning, was forgiving him in some small way. It was like a stab in the gut when it was _Dix_ who finally managed to part the crowd enough to gain their side.

The mono-spectacled transgenic purposefully crossed to Dean's other side and gripped the wounded man's arm. "I'll help you to the medic area."

Crossing in front of Dean, Sam reached out a hand to dislodge Dix's hold even as he stated, "Ah thanks, but I got him," even as Dean typically growled, "I got this," and yanked his arm from the shorter transgenic's grip.

Raising his hands in surrender, Dix returned, "Yeah, fine but at least let me walk with you, do some crowd control, do something so Alec won't rip my head off for not following his orders." He wasn't prepared for both brothers' gazes to lock onto him or for them to ask him simultaneously, "His orders?"

"Yeah, his orders. I was asking him about the copter and he said his brother was hurt, ordered me out here to help. And man, there was no way I was going to disobey and live," Dix recounted, fighting down a shiver at the look he had seen in the usually easy going X5's eyes. Turning from the brothers, he began pushing back at the crowd, "All right, nothing more to see, back to your lives of leisure," he lightly said, but his words were accepted, and the crowd began dispersing. Giving Sam and Dean a smile over his shoulder, he began walking forward, knew the brothers would follow his lead.

"See, Alec might be pissed but he still sent someone to help you?" Sam quietly pointed out as he slid his fisted grip higher onto Dean's right side to ensure he didn't jostle Dean's ribs as they headed toward TC's closest building.

"Ah, yeah, quite the body guard this one is," Dean groused under his breath, nodding toward Dix, who was one of the shortest, meekest transgenics in the whole compound.

Sam found himself giving a small, quiet laugh. It reminded him that no matter how angry he got at Dean, he couldn't find a way to stay angry, not with Dean peppering him with his humor, certainly not faced with the irrefutable proof of his brother's compassion for him and for others. And he knew in his heart that Alec would have no better luck holding onto his anger at Dean…but it would still take some time for the younger man to let go of his anger, to not let fear control him, to realize that whatever pain knowing Dean caused, not being with him was so much worse. But internally, Sam scoffed, '_Yeah, all Alec needs is time. The one thing we're running out of, that we're wasted on trying to save strangers. That I've let slip through my fingers when I should have been working on finding ways to save my own brother, should have truly been the selfish person Dean once accused me of being. Should have focused on the one thing I want, I need…my big brother not to leave me, to still be around to make me smile, to have my back, to fill the part of me only he can fill, that even Alec will never come close to occupying.' _

At their progress, the crowd continued to part but the brothers came up short as Max stepped directly into their path, her expression assessing before morphing to sympathetic. Without asking permission, she slipped to Dean's other side, wrapped her arm high around Dean's back as if she had read a medical chart, knew Dean's ribs were broken, that any touch there would bring the unmodified human pain.

When Sam and Dean's looks both settled on her, neither verbally protesting her assistance but clearly questioning it, Max lightly challenged, "What? You have a problem with a girl helping you?" But there was a plea in her eyes, as if this was something she needed to do, wanted to do. For Alec.

Dean offered up a cocky, flirtatious smile. "No, no problem."

"Good," Max returned as if the matter was solved but she shot a look across to Sam, seeking for his approval as well. Finding she had it by Sam's slight nod, she gave an almost shy smile of thanks to the taller Winchester before the threesome moved forward.

Trying to distract himself from the pain emanating from his body and from his heart, Dean sincerely offered to Max. "Good job on operation good Samaritan." Instantly he received incredulously looks from Sam and Max both. "What?" he exclaimed, head swiveling to Sam then back to Max.

Sam almost sighed at Dean's tactics, though he knew he shouldn't be surprised. Knew that by now he should be used to how mercurial Dean could be, burying his own pain, pulling on a mask of lightheartedness, offering genuine compliments to others with a ready smile though his own heart was breaking.

For her part, Max shot Dean a stunned look. "You can't be serious? Have you seen yourself lately?! No wonder Alec is so pissed. The last people he wanted to be in harm's way was you two and look how this all turned out."

"What? Your rescue effects were captured on TV for all to see, White's attack on TC was repelled and you got a helicopter to add to your arsenal. Seems a pretty good outcome, all in all," Dean pointed out, honestly believing the day's events could be counted a land slide win. Well, except for the small matter of his youngest brother ending up hating his guts.

Max's look shifted from incredulousness to displeasure. "Crap, you are just an older version of Alec. White kidnapped you, looks like he did his best to kill you and you want to go and say "I'm always alright"," she heatedly mimicked Alec. "Well you almost getting killed, you looking like death not even warmed over, that's not alright with Alec. Doesn't look like it's alright with Sam, so your whole, 'the mission was a success', I wouldn't try selling it."

"Rough crowd," Dean muttered under his breath. "Fine, I'll can the 'glass is half full' stuff. But I want some credit in the helicopter acquisition."

Sam scoffed at his brother's demand. "Dean, you didn't even want to get _in_ the helicopter. Alec practically picked you up and dumped you inside."

Undiscouraged, Dean insisted, "So, I'm still part of the reason TC is now the proud owner of a military copter. I want that written on a plaque hanging in the hallways or something."

Max snorted, "Yeah, sure. We'll put it beside the Zoning License we're gonna get from the city."

"So that's a 'no' on the plaque," Dean joked back as Dix and the threesome entered TC's interior and made their way down the hallway. But as he was helped into the medic area, the absence of Alec's presence ripped him apart worse than White ever could have accomplished. His last small, sheltered flicker of hope that Alec would forgive him died. Alec wasn't there, couldn't bear to see him, didn't care if his broken ribs shifted, punctured his lungs and he died on the cold floor of TC. '_Probably thinks that's what I deserve: to check out earlier than planned. Thinks I should spare him and Sam the wait. I'm leaving anyway, might as well go right now.'_

"Dean?" Sam repeated for the third time, reaching out to grip Dean's chin, to ensure himself that Dean was still with him, that the vacant look in his brother's eyes was only momentary. Breath slipped back into Sam's chest when Dean blinked, when his brother's green eyes focused on him, _saw_ him. "Hey, you alright? I lost you there for a little while," he tried to joke, hoped Dean didn't hear the crack in his voice even as he knew Max had, felt her stiffen at his side.

"What? Yeah, I'm here," Dean returned, but he was a little thrown off to find himself sitting on a thin mattress. Realized that somehow he had lost time, had slipped away to his own dark thoughts as they entered the medic area, didn't remember getting led here, pushed down onto the bed. But Sam brought him back to the here and now. And he could see the fear in Sam's eyes, could feel the bite of his brother's fingers into his chin, the grip desperate, fearful, determined. Alec might have given him up for dead but Sam hadn't. Not yet. And he loved Sam for that tenacity, for his loyalty even as he knew it would only bring Sam more pain.

"Where else would I want to be, right?" Dean glibly volleyed back, did it for Sam, did it to wipe away that _look_ in his brother's eyes while he still could. "Hiding out with some mutants, my clone and my little brother, it's the makings of a great sci fi movie."

"Sounds more like a horror movie," Sam countered, found a smile breaking through his panic as he slipped his hand from Dean's chin, let his brother reclaim his personal barriers, let Dean lie to him and tell him that nothing bad was going to happen, that everything was alright, that he was going to be fine when he left. '_You don't know how wrong you are, Dean. How much you don't know about me, about us, about what I can handle._'

Feeling as if she was intruding on something personal between the brothers, something that went so much deeper than the words they spoke, Max took a step back from Dean. Knew that her presence wasn't even registering with the brothers, that her absence would not matter. Without a word she walked out of the medic ward, intent on finding Falon, aka X5-401, the only TC resident that had any extensive medical training, though the transgenic was one of the most callus men Max knew. '_Course callousness was probably the number one requirement to be a medic trainee for Manticore. Patch up your fellow transgenic one day, take 'em apart the next day for an experiment. Yeah, Falon's cold enough to be in their ranks. Now I gotta depend on that jerk to patch up Dean and if he does even one sloppy stitch, Alec will kill him, slow and painful. Well, Alec will, if he ever stops being mad and scared and gets his butt back where it belongs with his brothers,_' but at that thought, her steps slowed. '_Alec belongs with __me__, right? I mean, it's great and all that he's got brothers now but ….But now what, Max?! He's supposed to throw them aside? For you? Because you said you loved him? Because you've decided to stop treating him like crap?!' _

The answer was so clear it hurt. Dean and Sam, they had accepted Alec when she had pushed him away, had sheltered him from pain while she had dished it out. They had proven to Alec what love was while she was still trying to figure it out for herself. But more than that, Dean and Sam had given Alec the final piece of himself that Manticore had not, could not: they had proven to Alec that he was worthy of love, _was loved_, deeply and without reservations. She couldn't compete with that. Ever.

Part of her, the part of her that was learning how to love someone more than her own survival, that part of her was happy for Alec, was grateful to Dean and Sam for loving Alec the way they did. But the jealous part of herself, the part of her that needed Alec was aching with the knowledge that she came in second place to Alec's brothers, that Alec would chose them over her.

Once she had accused Alec of forgetting the one good thing Manitcore had taught them: to never abandon their unit. Now it was a bittersweet revelation to know that he hadn't forgotten it, he had just taken the long road to find his unit. And his brothers were that unit, were **his unit. **'_No matter what's going through Alec's head right now, he'll circle back to his brothers, he would never leave them_,' she firmly believed. But her heart tagged on a fervent hope that Alec would find some room in his heart for her, that he would trust her enough to know she wouldn't get in the way of what he had with his brothers. '_Yeah and step one in proving that is getting Falon to patch Dean up and for me to make sure White's group isn't planning a retaliation, doesn't pose a threat to Alec's brothers. That Alec will value more than me going all girlie on him, telling him how I won't stand in the way of him being with his family, that I'll take whatever he gives me._' With that thought, she broke into a run, knew that she could prove herself to Alec, that it was way past time she made amends for past mistakes. For hurting him when she could have been healing what was broken in him, what was broken in herself. For not seeing the real Alec…for not even looking for the real Alec that Dean and Sam saw so clearly, had shown her since the three brothers had come to TC. The Alec that she loved even more than the Alec she had known before. '_The Alec that would kick my butt if he knew Dean was sitting in a medic ward without a medic in sight. Crap, Falon better be at his assigned station today or I'm going to rip him a new one.'_

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Reluctantly leaving TC's medic area, Sam couldn't shut out the echo of Dean's order. "Go check on Alec. Do it Sam," as if it didn't matter that he was grimacing in pain, that the "doctor" checking him for internal injuries was just some X5 who learned some medical know how for some undercover assignment. That they weren't in a real medic ward, that there was no X-ray machine and they didn't even have the supplies of a rudimentary first aid kit. None of that was supposed to matter to him, was supposed to panic him. No, he was supposed to check on Alec, make sure Alec was alright. It was so reminiscent of Dean's breathless words in that cabin, their father's still possessed body lying inches away: _"Where's Dad? Go check on Dad?"_ while he was lying there, bleeding, _dying._

At his thoughts, Sam stumbled in the hallway, reached a hand out to steady himself against the wall, bowed his head and tightly closed his eyes. It was happening all over again, that feeling in his gut, that horrible pain, dread that he was watching his brother die, that he was going to lose Dean while he was forced to stand there, pinned to a wall, helpless, useless. That Dean would do what he had done his whole life: worry about his family first, leave no energy to worry about himself, to _fight_ for himself.

"Sam," came the gentle, worried call.

Sam's eyes flew open and up to see Joshua standing in front of him, his eyes worried and gentle, a contradiction to his tall frame and canine features.

"Yeah," Sam returned, voice husky as he dropped his hand from the wall, stood up straighter, tried to wipe the despair from his features. But when Joshua tilted his head and looked quietly at him, he felt bare before the transgenic. Like Joshua wasn't fooled by his mask. Realized that Joshua had seen more than his fair share of deceptions at Manticore, could probably see right through the best of them.

"Dean hurt but going to be OK, right?" Joshua anxiously asked, confused and worried by Sam's obvious despair.

Sam nodded, knew his voice was too raw, his emotions too close to the surface. Couldn't even consider choking out 'He's going to be fine,' not when part of him was traitorously accepting that in a few months' time Dean could be gone, might be anything but fine.

With Sam's nonverbal reply and his contradicting sad expression, Joshua didn't feel his confusion lift but instead it grew. Reinforced what he had come to know in the short time he had spent with the Winchesters: that they were even more complicated than Alec. Made him suspect that they had higher highs and lower lows than even Alec could fathom. Maybe more than Alec could bear if the rumors spinning through TC were true that Alec had stalked angrily away from his brothers as soon as they returned to TC. And Alec's stark absence in the medic ward shouted to him that Alec was running away, was trying to protect himself against hurt, against loss.

Torn between wanting to shelter Alec from any more pain and listening to his heart, which was telling him that Sam and Dean were the best thing that ever happened to Alec, Joshua shifted on his feet, watched as Sam looked away from him, swallowed hard, tried to master his own pain. Suddenly, he realized that Dean, Sam and Alec, they were all hurting, broken, dark and confused but **together** they were something stronger, something better, something happier: family. "Alec goes to the abandoned room in the West building when he wants to think…be alone."

Looking up at Joshua, Sam wasn't sure if Joshua was giving him permission to find Alec or warding him away. "I need to talk to him, Joshua," his voice half plead, half conviction, fear and dread tripping up his heartbeat.

"I know," Joshua quietly acknowledged. "I will stay with Dean until you get back."

Before Sam could reply, Joshua stepped by him and headed for the medical ward. Left Sam standing there caught between a brother who was set on leaving him and a brother that might not want him around anymore. '_Especially after Alec hears my side of the story, knows it's __my__ fault Dean made the deal._'

Not one to backdown, Sam drew in a breath and headed for the West building, toward the only brother he might have left in a few months' time. The thought chilled him even as it gave him a small jolt of comfort. Alec was here, in his life because of Dean's compassion, because Dean had dared to believe that there was still good in the world and sometimes it emerged because you took a risk, let your guard down, dared to bear your heart and love. '_Leave it up to Dean to find some miraculous way to give me something to hang onto, to save me even when he can't be bothered to save himself,_' Sam thought, love and despair for Dean twisting in his soul.

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When Sam, with a last look of indecision, finally did what he asked and sought out Alec, Dean was relieved, felt a stab of guilt over feeling that way. But the truth was, his fortifications were crumbling. After going fifty rounds with White, after fearing that Sam and Alec would get killed trying to save him, after telling Alec about his deal, he had little bravado left to cling to, had little strength to shield Sam from his inevitable emotional fallout.

Sinking deeper into the thin mattress of the "exam table" of TC's less than reassuring medic ward, Dean closed his eyes, willed himself to keep it together. A surprised grunt surged from him as TC's only 'medical staff', Falon, roughly prodded his torso with cold fingers. But he kept his eyes closed, offered no biting criticism for the lack of bed side manners. He didn't deserve to be coddled, for his hurts to be treated with kid gloves, to get mercy when he had screwed up so royally as a brother, even as a protector because by his count, all he had done lately was hurt the people he wanted most to protect, he hurt Sam daily, had hurt Alec today.

Max's words came back to him about Alec wanting to protect _him_, to protect Sam. '_But it wasn't his job, it was mine, has always been mine. To survive whatever I had to so I would be around to have Sam's back_.' And he had survived today, had fought as hard as he could. Even when it seemed inevitable that he was going to die, he had still raged against death, had done it for Sam, had done it for Alec. It was ingrained in him to worry about his family's safety before his own, to fight, to not give up…not until he knew Sam was safe, that he wasn't letting his family down, that his family didn't need him.

Now a part of Dean was whispering that Sam was safe, didn't need him any longer. Sam had Alec to watch his back, a superhuman little brother, who was stronger and faster than he would ever be, whose training probably surpassed his own. It left only the hunting techniques still to be learned and Dean felt no concerns there either because Alec was an amazingly quick learner. Knew Alec would have been an awesome asset for John Winchester, better than he managed to be at seven or even twenty seven. No, Alec would not let Sam down. His strength of character a result of Manticore's sometimes insidious methods and his stubborn Winchester blood wouldn't allow him to fail his older brother.

'_Sam will be OK without me,_' he told himself and finally, he believed it. '_They both will.'_ And part of him wondered if they would be _better _without him, wondered how long they would even miss him.

As the doctor ruthlessly pressed on a broken rib, he gave a gasp of pain, wondered if the doctor was purposely trying to shift a shard of rib into his lung, was trying to do him a favor and end his torment right then and there. Still keeping his eyes closed, he tried to shut out everything, everyone, tried to figure out the right path to take on his journey that was fast nearing its end, struggled to do the right thing, for Sam and for Alec. To not be selfish, to not take more from Sam than he already had, already was.

"You'll live," Falon announced brusquely as he looked down at his patient. Thought for a moment that the weak Ordinary had passed out until a bitter smile turned up the man's lips and the man opened his eyes. Speared with the Ordinary's dark gaze, Falon fought the urge to look away, to retreat, even as he told himself that this Ordinary wasn't his equal. But he couldn't help wonder about the truth of the rumors that this unmodified human had gone a few rounds with White. It was evident he had taken one heck of a beating…and it was also clear that he had held his own for a long while against the genetically enhanced cultist that Max herself had admitted had kicked her butt every time.

"_You'll live_," Dean repeated with a bitter laugh. "You have a money back guarantee on that diagnosis, doc?"

Angered that he felt intimidated by this Ordinary, that his medical skills were being challenged, Falon heatedly threw back, "You don't trust me, then patch yourself up." He tossed the roll of bandages and antiseptic bottle back onto a wooden table, proving that he wasn't running a bluff. "Or better yet, go to a hospital, you know where _your kind_ can get properly treated. Where you don't have to bleed all over the place, where you don't have to use knives instead of scalpels and liquor instead of analgesia."

"You're right, I got this. Leave the supplies and get out," Dean growled, struggling to sit up, to back up his boast.

In bitter amazement, Falon watched his patient begin to sit up, knew the human could do it, would do it. '_Stupid Ordinary is going to kill himself. Well not on my watch. He's not going to ruin my reputation.'_ Cursing, he gripped the man's shoulders and slammed him back onto the exam table, would prove to the Ordinary who was alpha here.

White hot pain washed over Dean at the ruthless handling of his wounded body and he felt humiliated that a cry of pain tore from him, filled the room. But a second later his cry was drown out by an inhuman growl.

"Leave him alone!" Joshua shouted, the growl, the snarling that accompanied his words coming from him instinctively. Bounding across the room, he shoved Falon away from Dean, stood beside the prone human and growled, barked, snarled at the X5 that had hurt Dean, had dared to hurt someone he had sworn to Alec that he would protect. Had sworn to protect and had already failed at once today.

"You want to start something Rover, be prepared to get neutered," Falon railed back, shifting his stance, forgetting everything but the training Manticore had given him, had drilled into him until it was first nature: to fight, to survive, to kill.

Dean was shocked to see the two transgenics draw themselves into fighting stances, could feel the air vibrate with violence and challenge, knew that bloodshed was not only possible but probable if he didn't intervene. "Joshua, it's alright," he reassured, focusing on the canine transgenic.

"He hurt you," Joshua snarled as he took a menacing step forward, bared his teeth at the X5.

'_So this is what it feels like to have a guard dog_,' shot through Dean even as he reached out, wrapped his hand around Joshua's big wrist. To his surprise, Joshua stopped his advance instantly, looked to him as if seeking his next command, was readying himself to fill his next need. Unprepared for the open loyalty and obedience, he didn't know what he had done to earn it, certainly didn't know how to react to it.

Falon, meanwhile, wasn't speechless. "You like the Ordinary so much Rover, you take care of him," he snapped.

As Falon stalked by him, Joshua offered a barred teeth growl to his fellow transgenic. But feeling Dean's grip on his wrist tighten, he restrained himself from attacking, from enforcing a larger perimeter around Dean. When Falon slammed out the medic ward doors and Dean's hand fell away, disconnected whatever Dean had unconsciously bridged between them, Joshua shuffling uncertainly. For a few moments he let his eyes shift from Dean, to the floor, to the walls and back to Dean again.

Suddenly, scaring off the only doctor seemed a stupid move, especially now that Joshua saw Dean up close, could see the bruises on his face, his bloody lip and temple, the colored bruises painting his torso. But more frightening was the look in Dean's eyes. Joshua had seen it before, in his little brother's eyes when he had begun to give up all hope that Father would return, that things would be alright, ever again.

"I'll go get Alec," Joshua quickly reassured starting to head for the door, confident that if he could just reunite the family everything would be fine. Because he had always been certain that if he could have only reunited his little brother with his Father his brother would not have lost his way. But Dean's sharp "No don't," shook that belief, made him stop and turn back to Dean. He clearly read the plea in the man's eyes as Dean shifted upright, though pain distorted his features at the motion. "Then I'll bring Sam," he modified, still certain he knew the solution.

"Nah, you don't have to do that," Dean tried to nonchalantly deny, hoped Joshua hadn't heard the desperation, the fear in his earlier refusal. Swinging his legs over the bed, he sat up but his vision swam and his breath rasped out with the spike of pain his ribs and his other injuries delivered.

Easily detecting Dean's pain, Joshua stepped forward but didn't touch the man, understood too well about barriers, about cutting oneself off from physical contact, about doing things on your own. "I'm sorry," he breathed, surprised when Dean's eyes suddenly came up to meet his own, questioning, confused.

"Sorry for what?" Dean asked, knew Joshua's apology was sincere but had no clue why it was being offered, especially to him.

"That I didn't protect you like I promised Alec I would. Told him I would make sure nothing bad happened to his brothers…just like I promised Father I would protect Issac," Joshua revealed, hating himself for another failure.

"Isaac?"

"My little brother," Joshua answered before he looked away, said the rest. "Isaac gone now. He's gone."

"I'm sorry. Joshua, I know about losing family. And about failing," Dean snorted bitterly. "I've made a career at failing my family."

"No," Joshua refuted, eyes meeting Dean's. "You don't fail your family. I've watched you, with Alec, with Sam. You protect them, you save them, even from themselves. Alec …he's changed, is lighter..here," he said, pointing to his own heart. "And you did that, you and Sam. You could have made him your enemy but you made him your brother instead."

"He's not thanking me for that right now, Josh," Dean said, his voice rough and his eyes pained, couldn't help wondering if Alec would ever look at him again, let alone talk to him. '_Heck of a way to say goodbye, screwing up everyone I love. Good job, Dean. Just spectacular.'_

Joshua tilted his head in confusion, knew somewhere hidden was the reason for Alec's absence at his hurt brother's side. "Why not? Why isn't Alec here with you?"

Dean's eyes did a hit and run with Joshua's and then he slid off the exam table, grimaced in pain as he stood up, pulled his button down shirt off the chair. Shrugging slowly but determinedly into his shirt, he lowly answered Joshua's question, "Because I did what I always do, I screwed up. Tried to the right thing…. did the right thing and somehow it's turned into the wrong thing." His attention focused on buttoning up his shirt, he shook his bowed head resentfully, admitted, "I've hurt the people I love."

"Can't make it better? Undo it?" Joshua asked gently, wanting a solution to be found, to see Alec happy, to see Alec and his brothers together, like he wished he could be together with Isaac.

The big transgenic sounded so naïve, so innocent that Dean looked up at him instantly. And immediately felt like he was about to teach a child the harsh truths of life. Teach another child that cruel lesson that life wasn't fair, that there were things that were out there and they would hurt you, things like big brothers who swore they would always protect and they had lied. He had lied. "Not this time, Joshua. I can't make this better, not for Sam, not for Alec. The only thing I can do for them is to stop being a selfish jerk. To do what I should have done months ago."

Seeing the resolve and quiet appeal for understanding in Dean's eyes, Joshua didn't try and stop Dean from slipping past him and walking out the door. Nor did he try to interpret Dean's cryptic words. Didn't have to know what they meant, only what his heart was telling him: That Dean needed his brothers. Needed them as badly as Sam and Alec needed him. "Family needs family," he said aloud to the empty room before he hurried out the door, intent on not failing Alec, determined not to lose another little brother to grief and loneliness.

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The room was dark expect for the slice of weak sunlight filtering through the dust layered window but Sam knew Alec was inside, was starting to sense his little brother's presence like he could his big brother's. Drawing in a shaky breath, he entered the room, had to stumble in the dark blindly a few steps before his eyes adjusted, until he could make out the figure sitting on the floor, back against the peeling wallpapered wall.

Concern and guilt overran Alec's frustration at being found. "Is he alright?"

When the younger man spoke, Sam flinched at the rawness of Alec's voice, felt a spike of anger at the question that he honestly didn't know the answer to. He hadn't been allowed to stick around and hear the doctor's diagnosis, had been sent on an errand instead. Knew Dean had made him leave to check up on Alec, knew just as certainly that Dean didn't want him to see how much pain he was in, wanted to conceal the damage White had done to him. Protective instincts, all of it. Typical Dean behavior. "The medic is looking him over now. He didn't seem concerned about Dean's condition," answering with the truth where he could.

It didn't take super senses for Sam to pick out Alec's small exhale of relief, to see some of the tension slip from Alec's shoulders as he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Alec's love for Dean was so obvious and he envied him that freedom, that strength to feel, regardless of the consequences. Needing to look away, he walked to the window, used his forearm to wipe away some of the grim so he could see out the window, though he couldn't really see anything, could only feel despair creeping over him, entombing him.

Alec tried to hang onto his relief, to let this moment matter the most, to revel in today's victory, in the knowledge that Dean was going to be fine. But the future, the truth overshadowed everything, his relief, the comfort that Sam's presence gave him right then, his very breath. He thunked his head back against the wall, twice, before he opened his eyes, shifted his gaze to Sam's stiff posture by the window. The light illuminated half of Sam's face, highlighted the youngest Winchester's torment like a cruel beacon. "Course Dean's fine. He wouldn't dare cheat the hellhounds their sport, now would he?" he taunted, cold rage seeping from him where relief was a second before.

"Alec …" Sam stammered but he didn't face Alec, couldn't.

Disgustedly, Alec shook his head. "It was all there right in front of me. All except the truth."

Bowing his head, Sam, swallowing down a sob, quietly implored, "We didn't want…"

"To get the clone involved, smart move," Alec bit out, surging to his feet, heading for the door, knowing he was right, that he hadn't gone far enough away. Hated his weakness, because, no matter how stupid it was, he still harbored in his heart the belief that he was Dean and Sam's brother, that he was a Winchester.

Knowing he couldn't let Alec hang onto the misconception that it was about him _not _being family was, in fact, it was about him **being** family, Sam ran the few steps it took him to reach Alec, to be close enough to grab Alec's arm, to stop at least one of his brother's from leaving him. When Alec's eyes shot up to his, the despair and fury glittering in Alec's eyes scared him as much as it saddened him. "At first …that was true but the longer you were with us…Dean didn't want you _hurt_."

"Yeah, good, I feel great," Alec bitterly returned, the smirk he offered was like a grimace of pain, hurt Sam like Dean's deflection always did.

Meeting Alec's pained eyes, Sam breathlessly said, "I'm sorry, Alec," even as he felt tears spring to his eyes. Couldn't help but hear Dean's words echo in his head, '_I'm sorry, Sam. I know he was your Dad too.' _But as much as the sentiments fit, he couldn't say them, said instead, "Maybe I should have told you. You have every right to be mad. But don't be mad at Dean," he implored, voice cracking on his brother's name, knowing that Dean didn't deserve Alec's anger, to be hurt by it. Not when it was his fault, Alec facing the prospect of losing his big brother, everything.

Releasing his hold on Alec, knowing he didn't deserve that comfort, that Alec wouldn't welcome his touch, his presence after he said what he had to say, Sam took a step back but kept his eyes on Alec's. "Be mad at me, Alec. I'm the one that didn't tell you about Dean's deal. But worse than that…I'm the one who screwed up, who left his guard down, who got himself killed. I was just…" a watery smile filled with self-hatred turned up his lips and he shook his head, tried to not break down on the next words. "Dean and I, we got separated and I thought Dean was dead. So when I heard Dean's voice…" he swallowed, felt the first tears slip free of his eyes, "when I heard him calling my name…when I _saw him_, nothing else mattered except that he was alive." And he could remember that moment, that joy. Wished he could find a way to tell Dean that his joy had surpassed the pain Jake delivered to him a few seconds later. That his big brother being alive was more important to him than himself dying. Would forever regret that he hadn't used the last breath in his body to tell Dean that, to make him know that he was alright with dying as long as Dean was safe.

"It's my fault, all of this," Sam breathed, saw confusion and pain in Alec's features. "I was so happy to see Dean that I turned my back on a murderer, Alec. It was my mistake that allowed Jake to stab me. Mine, not Dean's. And I should have told him before that it wasn't **his** responsibility to keep me safe, that it was my own."

All the breath left Alec when the last barrier dropped from Sam eyes, when he saw Sam's guilt, and fear, and pain unfiltered. Understood that, no matter what he was feeling, it was a thousand times worse for Sam, for Dean's real brother, for the brother Dean had bartered his soul away to save. "He wouldn't have listened, Sam," he softly refuted, hoping to ease some of Sam's guilt, to make him see that Dean would never give up trying to protect him, to save him.

Sam shook his head in harsh denial, "I did what my Dad did, I asked him to save me. And he did, Alec," Sam's voice shattered but he couldn't stop the flow of words. "He saved me and now he's going to Hell," he choked out, felt like speaking the words aloud was acceptance, was a betrayal to Dean, was akin to conceding the battle.

When Alec reached out to him, his eyes sparking with compassion, Sam pulled back. He didn't deserve forgiveness, not from Alec, not from Dean, not from anyone. "Don't," he growled. "Don't tell me how this isn't my fault!"

"Sure, take the blame, there's enough to go around," Alec challenged, the charade of lightness in his tone destroyed by the ache in his eyes as he paced around Sam. "Yours, Dean's. _Mine_ for telling Dean that I wished I never met him, for leaving him in the stupid helicopter because I couldn't keep my crap together. So what if we waste the time we have to save him by cutting ourselves off from him. That we feel too guilty, that we're too scared to get closer to him. After all, we might just end up losing him anyway."

But then Alec came to a stop, met Sam's eyes head on. "Its poetic justice, actually," he revealed, his voice hoarse, his subterfuge of strength, of anything but grief and fear in his soul gone. "Rachel's Dad told me she had been dying for two years. Asked me if I knew what it was like to watch someone I love slip away from me everyday. And now I'm going to, aren't I? If I don't stop wallowing in guilt, if I don't stop mourning him before he's even gone…he will be gone, won't he?"

Sam stood straighter, found strength within himself to throw Alec a life raft, to remember that the fight wasn't over, not by a long shot. Wiping away his tears, he faced Alec, firmly vowed, "Not if we don't let him go. I'm not letting him go, Alec. And he's just going to have to live with that," he tacked on with a trembling but determined smile. Then he was stalking out the door, was heading back to his brother, was going to make Dean see that they were a package deal.

Hell would have to go through him to get to his brother. And that just wasn't happening.

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TBC

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Thanks for those awesome words of encouragement for last chapter!

And for those of you wondering if I'm going to take this story line up to the Season 3 finale…originally I was going to chicken out on doing that. However, I've gotten some wonderful encouragement to continue through that plot, so I think I might just venture there. And that's all the spoilers I'm giving away….unless you bribe me with something really good. (I'm not cheap but I can be bought.)

I pray everyone had a wonderful Christmas and I wish you all a Happy New Year!!

Cheryl W.


	12. Chapter 12

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

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Chapter 12

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With new found determination to save Dean thrumming through him, Sam steamrolled around the corner of TC's West building, formulating his speech to his brother in his head. Nothing prepared him to be shoulder checked by Joshua's taller, heavier frame. It was only Joshua's quick grip on his shoulders that kept him on his feet.

"Whoa, Joshua, sorry I wasn't watching…" Sam apologized, finding his feet again, surprised when Joshua's hand slipped from his shoulder to his wrist.

"Come, must come," Joshua said, pulling the younger man with him as he turned around, headed back the way he had come.

Tension and fear shot through Sam as he quickly paced Joshua. "What is it, Joshua? Is it my brother?"

"He's packing, he's leaving 'cause he hurt you, hurt Alec."

"What?!" Sam said, his voice spiking with his heart rate. Yanking his arm from Joshua's grip, he ran for the room he shared with Dean, all the while heaping curses on his brother's screwed up ideas of chivalry.

Slamming through the feeble barricade of the room door, Sam felt his breath whooshed back into his lungs at the sight of Dean, still there, still with him. Stalking toward his brother, he ruthlessly ripped the shirt from Dean's hand that had been headed to the nearly full duffle bag on the bed. "What are you doing!? Where do you think you're going?! Isn't it enough that you're threatening to leave me in May!!" Angrily he grabbed the duffle bag and threw it across the room.

Turning to face his brother, Dean drawled, "Sam," half threat, half sigh for understanding.

But Sam was past caring about catering to either of his brother's sentiments. Was blinded by anger, by fear, by a fathomless need to keep his brother with him, to not lose him. "I was coming to tell you I wasn't going to let you die, that I was going to save you, that no matter what happened we were going to face it together. And you're here packing! You were going to leave me behind, weren't you? Leave me with Alec out of some stupid idea of protecting me."

When Dean didn't protest his accusation, Sam stepped forward, fisted his hands in Dean's shirt, yanked Dean closer to him, hissed, "You trying to save me got us into this mess."

"And I would do it all over again, Sam!" Dean gruffly vowed, not even trying to break Sam's hold on him. When he saw Sam's anger falter into frustrated disgust, he wished that Sam could understand, just for a moment, why he had done what he had, why he would do it again. It made him wish that the one person who would praise his actions, his sacrifice was there. "Dad would understand why I did it, would approve…"

"No he wouldn't, Dean!! He told you to kill **me** if you couldn't save me. Not kill yourself, not condemn yourself. He would never want that for you. Never!" Sam railed back, didn't doubt what his father's thoughts would be about his son, the very son that he had sold his soul to save, dying for him, going to hell for him.

Surprised by Sam's denials, Dean refuted softly, needing Sam to know with certainty that their father had loved him. "He would have wanted you saved, Sam."

"Not at any cost, Dean. Not at this cost!" Sam thundered back, shaking Dean, forgetting about his brother's physical injuries, seeing too clearly his brother's emotional wounds that needed tended to, that he would cauterize if he had to, would do whatever he had to do to get them to heal.

But a sad resolve slipped into Dean's eyes. "You saw the look he gave us at the cemetery. He was happy at our victory, that we had won. That you and I were there."

"He didn't know the cost!"

"No?" Dean challenged quietly, eyebrow raised, meeting Sam's eyes head on, ripping away the veil Sam had purposefully viewed his father's through when the truth was too brutal, too calculating.

"What?" Sam choked out, head tilting, his brother's words distorting what he knew to be true. "Course not…"

Shrugging as if it didn't matter, didn't kill the deepest part of him, Dean smirked, pointed out lightly, "It would be a juicy tidbit, me heading downstairs. You honestly think they wouldn't have been whispering it into his ear in Hell."

Sam felt gutted at the thought that John knew. That his Dad had looked at Dean with such pride and he might know what Dean had done, where he was headed. "No. No! He didn't know Dean. He…he …"

" 'Killing that thing comes before me, before you, before everything…'" Dean repeated his father's words in the Impala right before the semi hit them. Said them as if they were all the proof he needed to win his case.

"No," Sam denied but the word was contorted by tears. "He didn't mean it, Dean. He died for you, made a deal to save you."

"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices today so you can secure a future victory, that's what he kept telling us, right? When we asked him why we had to hunt, when you asked him why we couldn't stay in one place, why you couldn't finish one year in the same school," Dean mercilessly pointed out, wanted Sam to see that their Father would be proud of him, that he had found a way to save Sam, to get his brother back when he had been lost.

"You were his **son**, Dean, before you were ever his soldier," Sam returned, knowing that he had always accused his father of putting them in danger, putting Dean in danger but his father's sacrifice, it had made up for that. It made him realize that his father loved his sons more than anything, loved Dean more than his own life, than his own soul, even more than his need for revenge.

"You were his son too and he told me to _kill you,_ Sam. Dying for me?" Dean gave another shrug of his shoulders but his eyes burned with intensity. "He just took one for the team. And, if he were standing right here, he would agree with me, with what I did. He would tell me it was the right thing to do, that I had to save you, no matter what. That it was my job to save you. If I hadn't screwed up, I wouldn't have had to do what I did but I did screw up and I had to make it right."

Hands tightening in Dean's shirt, Sam shook Dean, shouted, "But it's not right! Nothing is right! You didn't screw up, I did! And I should have paid the price for that. Me, not you! Not you! Why can't you see that I'm not worth this?! I'm not worth your life…and certainly would never be worth your soul, Dean. I know it, Alec knows it, why can't you open your eyes and see that?!"

But with quiet conviction, Dean answered, "You are worth it to me, Sammy. Always have been, always will be," he said, his affectionate gaze locked on Sam's anguished features and a tender smile turning up his lips.

Instead of feeling touched at his brother's devotion, Sam only felt despair at what Dean's love for him had caused him to do, where it would lead Dean in a few months if he didn't stop it. "And your own life means nothing to you, right? The fact that I'm going to wish to die when you're gone, that doesn't register with you. That the pain you had when I died, that's what you're going to leave me with. But worse because you're not just dying Dean. You're going to Hell!"

"I made my own decision, Sam. This isn't your fault," Dean firmly stated, knocking Sam's hands from his shirt, stepping back, determined that Sam see that whatever responsibility, whatever guilt he was carrying was misplaced. Wasn't his to bear. His resolve to do the right thing, to leave before Sam was forced to watch the true cost of his decision, of his failure to protect him grew at the look of protest in Sam's eyes, of hurt, of guilt. "It isn't your problem to solve. Your's or Alec's."

"Riigghhtt…" Alec drawled, entering the room like a predatory cat on the prowl, "why would we want to stop it?! I mean it's just great, you going." Turning to Sam he sarcastically enthused, "Just think Sam, we won't have to argue anymore who has to sit in the backseat of the Impala, or remember to bring back the pie or wonder if Dean is going to get his head bashed in by a jealous boyfriend."

But when Alec shifted to face Dean, his voice turned accusatory. "Course there won't be anyone there to save us when a hunt goes sideways, to stitch us up or make us laugh, or fix the Impala when she leaves us stranded along some desolate back road. Sam won't have anyone left who knows all he's been through, who knows him inside and out, who can read his emotions without even looking at him, who can see what's broken in him and fix it. And me, so what if I had a crappy childhood, am more familiar with pain than laugher, wanted just a _shot _at having a family, at having a brother who would do whatever he could to protect _me_. That I finally had someone who understood, not just what I was, but who I was. Someone who I could tell the darkest things I had done, had felt, and there would be no discrimination, no judgment."

Alec stepped closer, let his eyes bore into Dean's. "But like you said, Dean, I'm out of luck on that count. Guess we both are Sam because Dean's taking all that with him when he goes. Bet you'll get a lot of use out of those traits in Hell.." he acidly threw out before he spun on his heel, headed for the door, praying that his words would reach Dean, that Dean would stop him from leaving, would stop himself from leaving.

"I told you, I can't change what I did!" Dean shouted to Alec's back.

Spinning around, Alec stalked toward Dean. "But you can change what happens now! You can fight, if not for yourself then for Sam, for me! You said you screwed up, that you failed Sam. Well what do you think this is?! You think this isn't screwing up?! You think this isn't screwing Sam over, screwing me over! Truth is, dying isn't what Sam or I fear most, losing you is."

"This is Sam's life we're talking about!" Dean yelled back.

"And your life Dean! Both of our lives are at stake here! We're tied together in this deal whether you can see that on not. It's not just a coin toss of you dying or me dying, if one of us goes they might as well take us both," Sam darkly predicted, eyes piercing Dean's before they softened with need and warmth. "We're not just brothers when a holiday rolls around, or when I need a few pointers about fixing a rattle in the family car, or when I need a drinking buddy. Dean, we're brothers in everything, from morning until night, in grieving for Dad, in hunting, in patching each other up, in fighting at each other's side, in laughter, in tears, in life…and yeah, in death. Mom's death and Dad's absence made us this way. You made us this way, when you chose to stay home with me instead of playing baseball with your friends just because I asked you to, when you stole those Christmas gifts for me, when you told me the truth about Mom, about Dad, when you protected me from school bullies and everything the hunt could throw at us, when you _listened_ to me…when Dad never did. And you dragged Alec into this family by breaking him from jail and buying him the stupid Tryptophan and proving to him that he was worthy of being loved, of having a family. You did all that and you can't undo it. You can't pretend that those things don't matter to me, to Alec. That you don't matter. 'Cause you do, Dean."

Dean's chest tightened and he could feel tears welling in his eyes at Sam's words, at Sam's love, at the life line Sam was throwing to him, that Alec was practically lassoing around his waist. But he didn't reach for it, not when he feared it would bring both of his brothers down into the dark depths with him, drown them with him. "Sam…I can't…."

"Yes, you can," Alec cut in, the need in his eyes matching Sam's. "So how about working on staying with Sam and me instead of saying goodbye? Stay and be our big brother that we can't live without."

A tear slipped from Dean's eye as he shook his head, "It's not like I'm holding out on you, you know. I don't have a solution in my back pocket that I'm not talking about."

Sam stepped closer, his voice earnest, hopeful. "So we do this together. Like you told Dad, we're stronger as a family.".

"Especially with my revved up DNA," Alec boasted, smiling boldly as Sam and Dean both looked to him.

"The only thing revved up with you lately is your ego. What were you thinking, taking on White alone?" Dean reprimanded, a big brother glint of anger sparking in his eyes.

Alec shrugged, "Guy messed with my family. So he had to be put down like…"

"Don't say like a dog.." Dean warned with a silly smile. "Joshua would find that insulting to his heritage."

Laughter sputtered from Sam, the sound chasing away the tension in the room and sending smiles to both of his brothers' faces.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" Alec said to Dean, laughter in his words.

Dean's reply was to tilt his head and twitch his eyebrows, accepting the label with grace and flattery.

"Knows it?" Sam snorted, "He's spent years perfecting it," but his eyes were on Dean, his affection for his brother lighting up the room.

"I don't know about _perfecting_ it…but I'm getting close," Dean said, smiling wider, thinking for the first time that maybe Sam was right, he could be saved, that where he had failed, his family could succeed. Maybe they could literally beat the Devil at his own game.

Alec clapped his hands together, "Well, it's settled: we're saving your butt. But I got one more question." And he leveled his look at Dean. "Why aren't you in Medical getting patched up?"

"Ah.." Dean hesitated, suddenly didn't want Alec to know he was going to abandon them, planned on hurting them to save them. Shooting a look to Sam, he saw that Sam wasn't going to rat him out, would go along with any story he told. After all, Sam had a little brother to shelter now, had a big brother he wanted to keep on that pedestal for awhile longer.

Joshua's voice had all three brothers turning to the doorway.

"Doctor was mean to him," Joshua said, still panting at the wild run he had made to try and catch up with Alec. All it had taken to get Alec to seek out Dean was for him to simply say Dean needed him and then the X5 had taken off at a run, just like Sam had. Having gotten within earshot of the room just in time to hear Alec's question, Joshua had debated if he should interfere. Dean's hesitancy had made his choice clear.

"Mean?" Alec repeated, a deadliness in his tone as his look left Joshua and settled on Dean, demanded details.  
Dean offered an embarrassed grimace. "He wasn't _mean_ to me…" he denied but internally he was grateful for Joshua's deflection.

"Was rough, hurt him," Joshua clarified. With Sam and Alec's full attention on Dean, he gave a quick smile to Dean when the man glanced up at him. "Should I go get him, make him do better?" he offered timidly, as if he didn't know the effect his words would have on Alec.

Cursing, Alec stalked for the door, threw over his shoulder, "Sam, get him back to Medical. The 'doctor' and I will meet you there."

"Don't kill him until he patches up Dean!" Sam yelled after Alec as the transgenic disappeared out the door. Then he turned to Dean, "So I'm assuming you know the way back to Medical?"

"Sam…" Dean began in protest.

"You walk there yourself or I can have Joshua carry you there. It's your choice," Sam threatened but he couldn't keep the mirth from his tone.

"You're enjoying this way too much," Dean snapped as he trudged slowly toward the door, Sammy at his heels. At the doorway, he gave Joshua a pat on the chest, "Thanks, Joshua. I owe you…well, more than I can repay." Then he slipped by the transgenic.

"Yeah, so do I," Sam quietly said, eyes meeting Joshua's with insurmountable gratitude. Then he trotted the few steps it took to reach Dean's side. "I'm helping so shut up," he groused an instant before he slipped his arm around Dean's waist.

"Helping? And here I thought we were square dancing," Dean complained because Sam expected it, maybe even needed it. But he didn't pull away from Sam's help, had found strength enough to admit he needed, wanted it, counted on it. "And the guy wasn't _mean_ to me. Had a crappy bedside manner, yeah. But come on, "mean to me"?! That makes it sound like I'm a child, like he made me cry or something. Which he didn't!" he insisted as he shot a look over at Sam but wasn't encouraged by his brother's cocky smirk.

"If that's your story…." Sam taunted.

"Now who's the jerk," Dean grumbled.

"I learned from the best," Sam fired back, tightening his grip on Dean, ensuring the "best" didn't slip from his grasp. He didn't even mind one bit when an elbow jabbed into his ribs, only laughed in pure joy at Dean's antics.

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Finding himself again divested of his shirt and lying on TC's only exam bed, Dean was almost convinced that every transgenic had a clone. Because the Falon that hovered over him now? He was nothing like the butcher who had examined him half an hour ago. Not in demeanor or appearance. This Falon's ministrations were tentative, careful, even gentle, he was sporting a black eye and cut lip and Dean noted that he had a tendency to flinch whenever Alec's stance shifted by his bedside.

Of course Alec wasn't acting like the little brother that had beseeched him to stay with him, whose eyes had begged him to not die, to not go quietly into that good night. There was a hard glimmer in Alec's eyes as they tracked Falon's every movement, as they gauged the pressure the medic applied to his array of bruises. And when he drew in a sharp breath as pain shafted through him, Dean sensed a lethal air collate into Alec's stance. So it just seemed smart on Falon's part to choose to stand on the opposite side of his patient's bed than Alec and Sam protectively stance before he began to verbally tick off his injuries. His clear fear that Alec or Sam would hold him personally responsible for the news didn't seem such a stretch of the imagination.

For his part, Dean couldn't help compare the doctor's finding to his own tally: Broken ribs? Check. Slight concussion? Check. External bruising? Check. Internal bruising? Check. Face feeling like it went ten rounds with Rocky from the 1st movie when Stallone was in shape? Check Check. But the bullet graze on his arm? That one had surprised him, had him looking to the mentioned appendage, staring at the scored skin. It felt like years ago, him and Sam in the command room, bullets flying, grenades lobbed at them, the white hot searing pain of a Tazzer.

Not daring, under Alec's looming presence, to overlook even the slightest wound, Falon concluded his list with "And there are two small burns on his chest from…" but he stopped there, eyes moving to Dean, hoping the Ordinary took mercy on him and provided an answer.

"A Tazzer," Dean supplied. But, as Sam spoke the same words half a beat behind him, his eyes flew to Sam's. Because there was rarely voiced fear in Sam's tone that, inconceivably, made that small, simple wound seem like the worst he had sustained. Like it was a wound Sam hated himself for not protecting him from receiving.

Falon shot a look to Alec, wondering if his fellow transgenic understood the apparent and pathetic fear the Ordinaries had for Tazzers. But Alec's look was transfixed on Dean and Sam, its chill replaced with a shard of confusion and hurt. "I'll start preparing the medication," he quietly announced, suddenly wanting to slink away from the family of three, of the new trauma he sensed on the horizon. When his declaration didn't even garner Alec's attention, or the two Ordinaries', he walked across the room to the shabby medical cabinet, purposefully began humming to himself to assure he couldn't even unintentionally overhear the conversation between the brothers. Alec was pissed enough at him, he didn't need to add another offense to his charges, not if he wanted to walk away with his own health somewhat intact.

Knowing that he was missing something, that his brothers were once again keeping him in the dark, Alec wondered dejectedly when he was going to stop being the third man out. How he could earn the right to be privy, not only to his brother's future, but to their past. "Something more you're not telling me?" he sought to demand but it came out as a quiet question, an earnest request to be let in, to be a part of what Dean and Sam shared, what they were, seemingly effortlessly: brothers, family.

"Sammy doesn't let me play with Tazzers anymore," Dean lightly began watching Sam shift on his feet, his jaw tighten. But looking to Alec was no easier, with his probing gaze, his stance that said he wasn't going to take anymore deflections, was going to barrel through any more 'keep out' signs. "Not since I electrocuted myself and fried my heart back in…what 2006?" He looked to Sam for confirmation, like other brothers collaborated on the date of their winning touch football game or when they got arrested pulling a prank.

"Yeah," Sam hoarsely agreed, eyes pinging from Dean's badly bruised chest, to the floor, to the medic door but never meeting Dean's gaze. Because he knew that Dean would read him easily, would know that despair had again latched onto him. He just couldn't _believe_ that now, three years later, he was back to facing the real prospect of losing his big brother again. He nearly flinched as he heard Dean's words of the past ricochet in his head. '_What option? Burial or cremation? I'm going to die and you can't stop it.'_

The words 'electrocuted' and 'fried my heart' left Alec's own super empowered heart racing with frantic beats. "Something's wrong with your heart?" he asked, voice pained and quiet, uncertain how much bad news he could take in one day. Saving Dean from some deal with the Devil, that seemed just up his alley. But trying to protect Dean against his own body's failings? That one left him feeling sick with despair again.

"Nah, it's in prime condition, just like the rest of me," Dean boasted, eyes not daring to look at Sam, to give one indication that he still carried the weight of what his miraculous healing had cost last time. He still remembered swearing then that no one would ever die for him again…and then his Dad had gone and done it. But his Dad had sacrificed something much worse than his life, so much worse. '_Just like I did for Sam_.' Eyes sliding from Alec's skeptic but relieved eyes to Sam, he saw Sam's head was bowed, that his brother wasn't going to look at him, couldn't look at him right then. Wondered what was going through his brother's head even as he knew he didn't dare ask, not when every topic was a minefield of hurt.

Questions bombarded Alec but watching Dean and Sam, feeling their pain, he stored them away, knew they were inconsequential. Dean was well, was alive and was staying that way. "Prime?" he goaded, quirking a brow when Dean looked at him with a fabricated glare. "Your version of prime is sad, really sad, Ordinary."

"Hey, I'm many things but ordinary isn't one of them," Dean groused back, eyes on Alec but from his peripheral vision he saw Sam raise his head, felt some of his little brother's tension, hurt dissipate, loved Alec more than before for knowing how to work that miracle.

"I call them the way I see them," Alec continued to taunt, having come to know that there was nothing better than well structured insults to lead them through the roughest of times. Some families bonded though hugging, Winchesters bonded by getting into fond arguments.

"Well then you better get your eyes checked, Super boy. Who took on your nemesis, kept him entertained until you arrived? I did, the Ordinary. All by my lonesome."

"Entertained?" Alec repeated voice rising, fear tripping through him again at the memory of looking into the warehouse and seeing White aiming his gun at Dean, a bruised and bloodied and nearly broken Dean. "If I hadn't arrived when I did …" but he broke off his reprimand because his voice became choked up with dread, by the thought of the final outcome that had so nearly happened.

Suddenly, Dean tilted his head and his eyes sharpened. "That brings up one thing I haven't figured out yet. How did you find us? Thought you said you didn't know where White's headquarters were," accusation sliding into his tone, starting to believe Alec had sought to protect him by keeping that information from him. That he had lied to him so he wouldn't go all commando before he and Sam had to leave TC, had to leave him.

Sam's small laugh was unexpected, earned him a look of confusion from Dean and a threatening glare from Alec. "Go on, Alec. Tell him. You know I've almost been looking forward to it," Sam admitted without guilt, a smug smile pulling up his lips and mirth emerging in his eyes as his look swung from Alec then down to Dean.

"Tell me what?" Dean demanded, gaze pinning his brothers, hating being out of the loop.

It was almost comical to see Alec, a well trained soldier, shift on his feet like a child standing in front of his father, forced to confess his latest mischief. "I didn't know where White's headquarters were," Alec countered boldly but his next words were a mumble as he dropped his head, "I knew where you were."

Lifting his head from the pillow in an attempt to try and hear all of Alec's words and still failing, Dean said, "What? You didn't know where White's headquarters were ….yeah I got that part. So how did you find me?"

Grinning harder at Alec's obvious discomfort, Sam wasn't surprised when Alec's head swung up to him and he lowly growled, "Shut up, Sam."

"Alright, someone start talking. Now!" Dean ordered, feeling like he was dealing with a pair of insubordinate soldiers.

Unable to keep quiet any longer, Sam mirthfully supplied, "Alec put a leash on you." Enjoyed when Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise right before outrage clouded his brother's features and he turned his steely gaze onto Alec.

"I did not!" Alec forcibly denied, finding it easier to look at Sam to give Sam's shoulder a hard shove then to look at Dean, to face Dean's displeasure.

"You what?" Dean lowly demanded. "What does he mean you put a _leash_ on me?"

Stepping closer to Dean's bed, Alec tried to explain, "It wasn't a leash, OK. It was….a tracker…in your shoe." But if he thought Dean's anger would simmer down, he saw by his brother's eyes that, instead, it was climbing to a boil. Finding his own temper flaring he thundered, "I did it to protect you! I knew associating with Transgenics put you in danger, both of you. Not only from White but from the whole world outside TC. I thought if something happened….if we got separated ….if White's group dropped in from the ceiling and took you because they thought you were me… that I would have a way to find you. You and Sam both. And it worked, Dean. You can be all outraged and whatever you want but it worked and I'm not sorry. I'm not," he repeated firmly, chest rising with his exertion of drawing in air, of trying to steady his racing heart, of trying to quiet his desperation to make Dean forgive him, for Dean to see that he was capable of protecting him. That he wanted, no, _needed_ to protect him, to protect the family he had adopted, that had adopted him.

Wanting to cling to his prideful outrage, Dean felt almost betrayed when Sam spoke quietly at his side, looked at him with his big soft eyes that begged him to understand his point of view, their point of view.

"I'm not sorry either Dean," Sam interjected, still shaking internally at how close he and Alec had come to being too late to save Dean even with the tracker's advantage. He pulled on a small, gentle smile, "Actually I'm cursing myself for not thinking of it sooner, putting a leash on you."

"Try it and die, Sammy," Dean grumbled back but there was affection in his gaze for Sam. Was there for Alec too as he looked to his newest little brother. "One," he stated, raising his pointer finger. "You get one free pass. That was yours, little brother. No more going behind my back to...."

"To prove how much I care?" Alec cut in with a teasing tone. "Fine, I'll keep it all out in the open from now on. Guess I can get my hug now," he said, opening his arms wide and starting to bend down toward Dean, laughing when Dean braced his hands against his chest to stop his actions and growled, "Dude, get off me!" Straightening up instantly, before Dean exerted any of his waning strength to try and really keep him at bay, Alec smiled down at his brother's scowl. "Sorry man, it's one or the other. Those are your options. Either Sam and I keep going behind your back to show we care about you or…"

"We're going to have chick flick moments every day…maybe two or three times a day," Sam joined in, getting a nod of agreement from Alec before looking down to Dean.

"You're both a bunch of girls. I don't have two brothers, I have two _sisters_," Dean grumbled. Then he made a show of repositioning himself on the bed as Alec and Sam smiled down at him, gloating in their victory. No reason they should see how hard it was for him to not smile, that he felt warmth spread over him at their victory, at knowing how much his brothers cared for him, whether they said it aloud on a daily basis or stuck to sticking trackers in his shoes and spending hours researching how to break his deal.

"So that's a "Yes" on the chick flick moments option?" Alec taunted and laughed openly at the deadly glare Dean leveled at him. Mentally he added another entry to the list of things his brothers had taught him: That a glare sometimes conveyed more affection than a smile ever could.

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TBC

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Yeah, I admit it, I went the fluff routine this time around. I just thought after the angst of this season's episodes I wanted a little lightness, wanted to show that there's hope for happiness in every day. Ok, my Hallmark moment's over…(please don't gag).

Thanks for reading and for those awesome reviews of support!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	13. Chapter 13

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

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Chapter 13

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Standing outside Medical, Max looked through the window, watched as the two younger brothers sat vigil beside their older brother, playing a silent game of cards. Sam's victory was only expressed by his wide, cocky smile, unwilling to wake Dean up as he lay still on the bed beside them, battered, bruised, but his chest was rising in a healthy rhythm.

As if sensing that they were being watched, that there might be a threat to his brothers, Alec quickly looked over his shoulder. When Alec's gaze fell upon her, Max instantly knew something had changed in his eyes, something she couldn't interpret. Then he turned again to Sam, quietly spoke to his brother then came to a stand, was walking toward her with the grace she knew even very few transgenics were gifted with.

Stepping back a few steps, she hovered against the far wall of the hallway, watched as Alec exited the room, crossed over to stand in front of her. "How's Dean?" she asked, surprised at how attached she had become to the Ordinary in the few weeks she had known him. But she also admitted the question was two pronged, knew that the answer would tell her how _Alec _was doing better than Alec would ever voice.

"Broken ribs, bruises everywhere but still stubborn enough to think he shouldn't be in the medic ward tonight," Alec smirked, with worry and deep affection.

She wanted to joke about Alec's matching stubbornness but Alec looked too raw right then for levity. So she offered what comfort she could. "I sent scouts to check out White's group, see if they were putting together a retaliation. But it seems that they have their hands full with news crews and getting inspected by another branch of the Federal government. We've been keeping an ear to the wall but so far the name Winchester hasn't been on the wire. I have double guards posted on this building, just to be safe."

She saw some of the tension seep from Alec's stance, heard the sincerity of his "Thanks Max." Nodding at his words, she wanted to tell him how tired he looked, wanted to brush her hands gently across his face, wanted to smooth away the pain flickering in his eyes that told her he had just barely survived his battle with White. His next words derailed her intentions.

"I won't apologize for what I did to get Dean back, Max," Alec boldly announced, eyes coming up to meet Max's. "White …I probably killed him." There was no regret there, only searing hatred.

"Alec, he took Dean…hurt him…would have killed him. If I was in your position, I would have done the same thing," Max defended, remembered her determination to save Tinga and the well of pain at being too late, failing to protect her family.

"I've probably ruined whatever good your part of the operation did, put all transgenics in greater danger and back on the monster list." Giving a bitter smirk, Alec shook his head, "I came to help and now I've only made things worse for your cause. Not to mention I almost got my brother killed in my place. Guess the only good news I have for you is that I'm leaving with Sam and Dean, soon as Dean's up to traveling."

Pain shafted through Max even as she cursed herself, told herself she knew this was coming, that Alec would choose his brothers over her, that she _wanted_ Alec to have a family, to be loved. '_He is loved, by me, that should be enough_,' Max's heart traitorously whispered but aloud she said, "You don't have to leave, any of you. We can protect you…." She broke off at Alec's small laugh and the bittersweet look in his eyes. "What?!" a touch of anger, of frustration in the one word.

Alec ran a hand through his hair as he met her eyes. "There's a lot of that going on today….protecting, promising.." but something shifted in his eyes, became sad, afraid. "For everything we are, everything we can do…sometimes it's not enough, sometimes it goes all wrong anyway."

Wanting to wipe away the look in Alec's eyes, his seriousness, Max joked, "Well there is that saying about the road to hell is paved with good…" but she broke off as she watched all color drain from Alec's face, watched him flinch at her words. "Alec, what's wrong?" her voice soft as she reached out to him, wasn't prepared for him to again skitter back from her touch, to shut her out with the fortifications Fort Knox would envy.

The word 'hell' echoed in Alec's head, gave his greatest fear voice, made him lose his tenuous grip on his optimism. Knew, just as he had when he left Dean in the helicopter, that he didn't deserve to be comforted by Max, to let her touch soothe him. Not when everything was wrong in more ways than he could have ever imagined. And the hurt in Max's eyes, that was just more coals heaped on his head. "Max…it's better if …."

"You just leave," Max filled in the blanks, her voice carrying defiance instead of revealing her hurt. As she advanced toward Alec, there was a predatory gleam in her eyes But, to her relief, Alec didn't retreat further from her as she came to stand toe to toe with him, tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "I know your whole speech, Alec. You're a danger to the people you love, they get caught in the crossfire, it's better if we all just bail on you, leave you alone, let you go on thinking you're something we regret having in our lives instead of someone we treasure. But me, I think Manticore dished out enough lies, why should we be like them?"

Alec stiffened at Max's closeness, felt tension, fear coil around his heart. Felt vulnerable on too many fronts. Had fought too many battles lately with the knowledge that to lose even _one_ fight meant to lose himself, forever. And now Max was waging another battle against him, wanted him to willingly drag her down with him. "I'm not lying, Max. Not now. Not about this. I am a danger to you, to TC after what went down today. The best thing I can do is leave."

"The best thing…or the easiest thing?" Max challenged, her eyes pinning Alec's as she dug in, decided that she wanted the best of both worlds: to give Alec what he wanted…his brothers and give herself what she needed, Alec here, with her.

"Leaving is the only thing I can do," Alec steadily countered back, unwilling to be drawn into a debate when he understood the picture so much better than Max did.

"You choosing to run, that's a novel idea," Max shot back, desperation turning into hurt, into anger. "I must have missed the class where Manticore taught us to use that tactic whenever we feel cornered."

Instead of defending himself, Alec shrugged and lightly returned, "Run away to fight another day." Then he turned around, intended to head back to Dean, to Sam, to where he belonged, wanted to belong. Max's words stopped him.  
"Running away doesn't seem to be a Winchester trait," Max threw out, knew she had hit a nerve when Alec stopped. "But now running into trouble…that's hardwired into them….into you. You didn't have to go after Dean, take on White…"

Alec swiveled around so fast, Max took a step back. "Course I did! And like I said, I'm not sorry, no matter the consequences for…."

"For me or the other transgenics, right?"

Alec swallowed. "That's right. Dean is…..he's my brother, Max, and there isn't much I wouldn't do to save him." Thought about the threat Dean was under now, what he might need to do, what he would willingly do to save Dean that fate. "Maybe there is nothing I won't do to save him."

Catching Alec's present tense phrasing, Max tilted her head. "But you already saved him."

Alec turned around but Max sped forward, got in his way, put herself between him and his brothers. "Alec, what's going on? Do you think White's group will really come after Dean?"

"White's group is the least of my worries."

And she could see it was the truth. "This has to do with whatever Dean and Sam hunt, doesn't it? You think Dean's in danger…you're going with them as much to protect Dean as to protect me and TC."

"Wow, the way you tell it I'm quite the humanitarian," Alec bitterly returned, knew that he wasn't a hero, had never been a hero. Was simply a brother willing to do what he could to save his brother, to try and save his family, in all their many shapes and sizes.

"I'll help, I'll go with you," Max instantly responded, forgetting her responsibility to TC, to the other transgenics she had freed, to a cause that had claimed her it's leader without her permission.

Though Max's offer wasn't unexpected, Alec felt his heart trip in his chest. "No," he growled out firmly.

"Alec together we can…" Max persisted but Alec harshly cut her off.

"I said No!" he nearly shouted before he remembered Dean asleep in the other room, wounded, hurt, vulnerable and he dropped his tone to a hissed whisper of denial. "No," he repeated because enough people were in danger, enough people he cared about could be lost. He wouldn't add Max to that tally. Couldn't. For so many reasons.

"You're willing to risk Dean's life on ego, thinking you can take on everything alone. Well, maybe this time you'll need help, need my help," Max accused, challenged, sensing a desperation, a fear in Alec she hadn't before and it scared her.

"I might…but I can't ask for it," Alec quietly admitted, eyes meeting hers unwilling to bend on this issue.

Max instantly railed against Alec's words, his motives. "Why? Because this is your stupid way of protecting me?!?!"

"Yeah…and to protect Dean and Sam. The less people involved, the better at this point."

"You're not making any sense!"

"They are my brothers, my family! And no matter how I feel, about you, about trying to get the transgenics off the wanted list…I'm not going to lose them, Max. I'm just not," he insisted but the conviction of his words was shredded by the catch in his voice.

For a moment, Max said nothing, looked into Alec's eyes, tried to connect with him, to find where she belonged. "Ok. I'm not going to stand in your way. Whether you believe me or not, I want you to be happy, Alec. I want you to have a family. But…" and she raised her finger, jabbed it into his chest, "you owe me a romantic dinner and some roses when this is over and you come back. And Dean has to finish his poker lessons to the kids and Sam has to show Joshua how to slam dunk a basketball or something. All three of you will owe me."

Hope…a future, it was what Max was offering him, was offering his family…and Alec knew instantly then and there that he loved Max. Without warning, he swooped down and kissed her hard but the way she melted against him, slid her arms around his neck and moaned in pleasure, she wasn't protesting. Pulling back, Alec met Max's eyes as he tenderly caressed her cheek with his left hand, "You got yourself a deal, Max."

"Darn right I do, now shut up and kiss me again, stupid," Max returned with a saucy, hungry smile as she pulled Alec forward again.

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"You done with your love connection?" Dean drawled, opening his eyes and resting them on Alec as the younger man sank into the chair he had occupied for the past few hours.

Looking to Dean, Alec shot back, "You're supposed to be sleeping," chagrined that Dean's possum routine had fooled him. But it couldn't exceed his worry, his need to assess the older man's pale features, to measure the tempo of Dean's words, to try, with every sense that Manticore had heightened in him, to gauge how Dean was faring.

"I would be if I was in my room, sleeping on a real mattress," Dean countered, shifting on the medic bed, pretending the discomfort that flashed on his features at the movement had everything to do with poor mattresses and not hurts accumulated in a 'winner takes all' brawl with a superhuman Fed with a nasty bent toward not playing fair.

Though Sam wasn't fooled, he knew if he voiced his concern Dean would only mock him so he turned to Alec, offered up a complaint, "I told you the whining wasn't over."

"I'm not whining," Dean objected even as his voice climbed into the whining range.

For a beat, Sam let Dean's reply stand before he threw caution to the wind and leveled Dean with an open look of concern. "So how are you feeling?" he ventured, his voice quiet and asking for the truth.

"Fine," Dean answered, holding Sam's eyes unflinchingly, needing Sam to believe him, to not make him drop one of the few barriers he had managed to maintain that day, a barrier he preferred to keep intact. For Sam, for Alec and mostly for himself because a guy had his pride, though he had little left. White had decimated most of it and Alec and Sam…he had surrendered it for them, to let them in his head. His little brothers had both claimed Texas size claims in his heart but letting them coerce him into talking about the deal, about rethinking his plans, accepting the outcome…it had not come easily for him. Had come hard because it was loosening his protective detail, was shifting the weight from protector to protected and he hadn't had that for a long time, way before Dad and he split up for jobs. He felt like his Dad hadn't had his back since the first time he had left a child Sam in his care while he headed off on a hunt.

Not willing to have Dean downplay his pain, Alec challenged in disbelief, "Yeah, you're fine."

Skilled in the finer acts of deflection, Dean gave Alec his big brother worried look. "And how are you doing? White got in some good shots," noting the strain on Alec's face, the careful way he had sat down, as if he expected pain when his back met the chair's back.

Alec smiled cockily. "He barely laid a glove on me."

Before Dean could refute the statement, Sam spoke. "You're both liars," frustration but no anger in his tone, his eyes swiveling from Alec to Dean, daring either of them to cry defamation of character. Instead he was greeted to matching 'yeah and proud of it' smiles from both of his brothers. It generated a smile of his own and he absently returned to shuffling the cards as a comfortable silence fell on his family.

But Alec couldn't let the silence stand, couldn't get the words that he had overheard out of his head. Couldn't bare to let the pain of those words remain with Dean..or Sam. When he began to speak, he bent his head down, afraid of his brothers' reactions, that he was crossing a line he had no right to cross…regardless of the pinch of shared DNA, of his brothers' obvious love for him. Some things even love didn't allow. "I know it's none of my business and I didn't know your father but…I know about being manipulated." Here he looked up, saw Dean and Sam's opaque eyes were fixed on him, making it harder to continue. But love gave him the strength to risk his brothers' anger. "I know about being told so many lies that it's easier to accept everything as a lie instead of anything as being the truth."

Meeting Dean's eyes, seeing how still Dean was lying, like he was holding his breath, Alec plunged forward, prayed he was about to help Dean, not hurt him more. "You are probably right, Dean. In Hell they did tell your father about your deal." Noting Dean's sharp intake of breath, he quickly pressed on with conviction, needing Dean to believe him. "But he didn't believe them, Dean. **Couldn't**. Not for a second. Because then they had the means to break him. And when he saw you and Sam together, he would have thought it was all a lie…like the thousand others they had told him."

Sam's breath caught in his chest and he looked to Dean, also noted the stillness in his brother, like Dean was standing on an edge and to move…to accept hope was to lose his footing, to fall forever. "It makes sense, Dean," he gently agreed, felt vulnerable when Dean's look shifted from Alec to him. "We both know what Dad did to stop you from dying, I can't imagine what he would do to keep you from going to Hell."

Dean swallowed, bowed his head and Sam and Alec weren't sure if it was in acceptance or denial, were both surprised by his next words. "That's what worries me."

With a confused tilt of his head, Sam asked, "What worries you?"

Raising his head, Dean leveled his look at his two brothers. "What you two will do to try and save me. I don't want to be saved at the cost of your lives or souls."

Alec smirked, shifted lazily back in his seat, "Actually it's still up for debate if I have a soul to barter with…"

"Don't," Dean's gravely voice sliced across Alec's words. "Don't joke about this. There aren't going to be any more deals or trades or bartering. I'll gladly go to Hell before I let either of you do that for me. We clear?" he demanded, forged steel in his tone, fierce determination in his eyes.

Simultaneously, Sam and Alec instinctively responded to the order in Dean's voice with a "Yes" barely managed to not tack on "sir". Chagrined at their reactions, Sam and Alec exchanged embarrassed glances. Yeah, they were great at disobeying Dean, were going to do a fabulous job of keeping secrets from him about their plans to save him.

Reveling in his siblings' obedience, Dean smugly smiled, settled back more firmly in the bed and drawled, "Good. Now you two get out of here. And Sam….I could tell by the way you moved the cards in your hands that you were bluffing."

"You could not," Sam protested with a whine, look searing into Dean's laughing eyes.

"Well, now that I know your tell, let's up the stakes," Alec drawled, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

"That's more like it. Deal me in," Dean said, starting to sit up but Sam's big hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him back onto the mattress even as he felt Alec's fingers wrap around his leg, also bringing his motion to a halt.

"You can be our loan shark," Alec suggested but his brazen smile was condescending.

"Bankroll either of you?" Dean snorted but he grimaced as his ribs protest that action. "Not happening. I don't throw my hard earned money away."

"Hard earned?!" Sam scoffed. "You got it playing pool."  
Before Dean could defend himself, Alec calmly stated, "Pool is hard work."

"See? You're outnumbered on this one, Sammy. Now deal me in," Dean ordered, hand reaching to forcefully remove Sam's meaty paw from his shoulder.

"Sure," Alec drawled in agreement but his eyes were serious when they clashed into Dean's. "And since you're feeling up to playing poker maybe we can discuss you planning on ditching Sam and I."

"Hey I didn't tell him," Sam instantly defended but Dean didn't even look his way, never leveled the accusation at him, was too busy dealing with Alec's displeasure.

Dean shrugged, fought down the flinch at the action, tried to make his words light, inconsequential, like his actions wouldn't have ripped out his heart and soul. "I thought it was the right thing to do. Would makes things easier on Sam, on you not to be there at Ground Zero."

"Where else would I be, Dean?" Sam exclaimed, couldn't believe Dean thought he would choose to be anywhere but at his side, fighting for his life.

"Safe," Dean answered solemnly, saw Sam shake his head in frustration and anger.

"Safe is overrated if you ask me," Alec entered the brotherly fray. "Boring even. I wasn't bred to be an accountant and you two weren't trained to be captains on Wednesday night bowling leagues." Shaking his head, he smiled a bittersweet smile, "I've gone it alone before and I gotta say, I rather be fighting at your backs, fighting the worst odds any day over sulking in a bar where no one even knows I'm alive."

Meeting Alec's gaze, Dean knew they understood one another on that account on a level that maybe Sam never would. "Least in the bar, they would be the chance to hook up with some hot chicks," Dean joked, didn't want to actually acknowledge the raw hurt of loneliness he and Alec apparently shared.

"Seems I already got my hot chick. Next business at hand is family business," Alec firmly stated, resolve in his eyes like Dean had seen him wear in the warehouse before he took on White.

"Well then you're in luck," Sam drawled, returning to shuffling the cards, "Our specialty is family business," and there was a deadly resolve in his words as well. No way was he losing Dean. '_I'll die first_,' echoed in his head and he knew the words weren't original, were Dean's…but were now his own.

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The argument had been raging for three days but none of the combatants had lost any of their fire. "This is stupid! I should be going with you!" Alec growled, stepping into Dean's path as they headed down the corridor toward the outside world.

"Yeah, and I disagree," Dean shot back, trying to side step Alec but the transgenic only stepped closer to him.

"Tough. I'm coming with you guys," Alec refuted, his stance stiffening as if gearing himself for a physical confrontation that had been building ever since Dean had the audacity to tell him that he couldn't leave with them, that they would call him when they needed him.

"No you're not!" Dean thundered back, unwilling to waiver on this issue, his hard eyes slamming into Alec's stubborn gaze.

"Why not?! I mean, give me a good reason this time!" Alec challenged, certain that there wasn't a reason on earth that would justify him letting his brothers leave without him. That would make him rethink his decision to go with them, to willingly face whatever fate had in store for them. For all of them.

"Because I'm the oldest and I say so," Dean nearly shouted back, stepping closer to Alec.

"Yeah and I'm the strongest and Sam's the tallest. So what?!" Alec countered, done taking orders that could decimate his heart, what constituted his soul. He was not a soldier right here, right now. He was Dean's _brother_ and that role came with a whole different set of rules.

Standing behind the two combatants, Sam almost smirked at Alec's comeback to Dean's standard reasoning. '_Crap these two were so alike. This fight could go on indefinitely._' "We need an ace in the hole," he quietly interjected which earned him Alec's blazing eye contact. "They know us too well, know our plans before we make them. But you, you they don't know, Alec. We have no weapon but the Colt and that seems a little light even by my standards."

Alec's look swiveled to Dean as his oldest brother spoke now without anger, with compassion. "This isn't about protecting you…" At Alec's glare, Dean sighed, modified his words, "Fine, part of it is but a lot of it is about us needing some advantage."

Alec shifted on his feet, felt a weight settle heavily on his chest. "And you think I'm that?!"

"You have been so far," Dean honestly said, affection and pride in his tone. "Besides, you're a Winchester and you can't have too many Winchesters waiting in the wings for reinforcements. Dude, you're our ace in the hole and I don't make it a practice to show my cards until it's time."

Sam stepped closer, drew both of his brother's attention to himself but his look settled on Alec. "Alec, I promise, soon as we have a game plan or locate who holds Dean's contract, I'll call you."

For a moment, Alec held Sam's eyes, trusted that Sam was trying to do what was best for Dean, wouldn't side line him if he didn't think it was the best chance they had to save their brother. "I hate this friggin' plan," he grumbled but felt warmed as Sam gave him a soft, sad smile.

Giving Alec's cheek a proud pat at his obvious capitulation, Dean lightly accused, "Now you sound like him," nodding his head to Sam.

"Yeah, and you don't listen to either of us," Sam grumbled good naturedly before a heavy silence fell between the brothers as they looked at each other. Not for the first time, Sam wondered how he had ever walked away from Dean, to go to Stanford, to head to California, to track down the other physic kids…because the thought of leaving part of his family behind, even newly found and formed family, it was agonizing.

Though he had been raised in a military organization, Alec was the least emotionally reserved of the brothers, didn't hesitate to step forward, enclose Dean in a hard, desperate hug. "No more kamikaze routines, dumbbehind," he growled affectionately by Dean's ear, warmed as Dean's arms came around him, hugged him tightly back before releasing him.

"Says the guy who willingly goes up against a secret government agency. I'm not going to be around for awhile so watch your butt, little brother," Dean ordered, didn't release his stern eye contact with Alec until his brother nodded his head, made the vow.

Turning to Sam, Alec found Sam met him half way, was willingly drawing him into his arms. "Don't try and do this on your own, Sam. I'm not interested in burying you anymore than Dean."

"I won't do it without you, Alec," Sam pledged, pulling back, finding his eyes shining as they met Alec's own watery depths.

"Come on, Sam, we're losing light," Dean falsely groused, gave a smile to Alec that didn't reach his eyes as Sam came to his side.

Sam's smile was sad as he gave Alec a nod before he turned around, matched Dean's gait as they walked away, together.

Alec's hands fisted at his side, cutting off the blood flow as he watched his brothers walk away, leave him behind. Being pulled away from the explosion that he had thought killed Rachel, watching as Manticore, the only home he had ever known, burned, walking away from a comatose Rachel, leaving Max behind when Sam and Dean had originally busted him out of jail…it had all been hard, brutally hard. But this, this was akin to a part of himself dying.

He didn't even hear Max's approach, didn't sense her presence until she spoke. "You alright?"

"No," Alec murmured as Dean and Sam turned the corner, slipped from his sight, walked away from him, took more of him with them than he thought he could live without. "Not even close."

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and for your wonderful reviews for last chapter! Sorry it's been such a wait for an update.

Have a wonderful evening!

Cheryl W.


	14. Chapter 14

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Spoilers for Time is on my Side. For those immersed in SN's Season Four's storyline right now like I am, I'm going to have to ask that you put yourself back into the mindset of Season 3, to a time when there is still hope that Dean won't go to Hell…not much hope but still there is a thread of it. Also, just so you know, Dean doesn't make an "appearance" in this chapter but he is a source of conversation.

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Chapter 14

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It had become a predictable scene around TC: a closed down Alec, one who rarely smiled. One who no longer lived up to his name: smart aleck. Neither Max nor Joshua could rekindle that light in his eyes…not like the sound of his phone could. When it rang, no matter what he was doing, talking, riding his motorcycle, in the middle of a high risk mission where the sound of the phone could compromise his position, risk his life, he answered the phone, immediately. And what came next, when the call wasn't from one of his brothers, it was more devastating than what had come before: bitter disappointment, deeper grief, more of his precious, limited hope slipping through his fingers.

"You could call them, you know?" Max offered quietly, lifting her eyes from a corporate building's blue print to the only other occupant in the room. But Alec didn't react to her words, kept trailing his finger along the route his team would take when they broke into the corporation, played Robin Hood again, hoping to keep hold of some of their Good Will in the eyes of the citizens. Reaching across the table, she grabbed Alec's phone, wasn't all that surprised when Alec's hand clamped almost painfully around her wrist. Looking again to Alec, she was rewarded with his attention. Though there was anger in the green depths of his eyes at least it was some sign of life.

"Or I could call them," Max said with an inflection of coercion. But it was a show, a con because, honesty, she wasn't even _contemplating_ crossing the line, of getting between Alec and his brothers. No, she wouldn't take that course of action even for Alec's own good, knew that it would cost her whatever trust, whatever affection Alec held for her.

At Max's threat, Alec felt his world shift again, felt his fortifications shudder under an assault, all be it an unintentional one, from a trusted ally. Sharply, he knew that Max was a danger to Dean and Sam, was yet another wild card in a deck with all Jokers. Her good intentions could kill them all as surely as his weakness, his need to call his brothers could.  
Any connection, any contact he made with Dean or Sam could endanger his brothers' lives, could forfeit whatever "ace in the hole" status he had, could endanger Max and everyone at TC. And that meant that any contact that anyone _even remotely tied to him_ made with Dean or Sam could bring the same disastrous, lethal results.

But there was more on the line than Dean's life, than Dean's soul. The stakes, they were all or nothing. If he lost Dean, if Dean was stolen away, the after effects of a loss that unspeakably cruel would resonate farther and go deeper than he could calculate. For him, for Sam, for the fight against evil that came in shapes more hideous and sinister than Manticore could fathom. The truth, the odds they faced in saving Dean, in trying to save the world he knew, it chilled him to whatever depths that consisted of a soul. And unknowingly, Max had proven herself to be an adversary to their cause.

Cruelly tightening his grip on Max's wrist, Alec savagely commanded, "You don't ever call them. Ever, Max. Ever. That clear? Is that clear?!" he demanded, his voice nearly a shout, shaking Max's wrist in his hold, adamant that he get her compliance, that she understand that disobedience would be unforgivable.

"Yes. Yes, it's clear," Max nearly stammered, shaken by Alec's merciless tone, by the cold, deadly look in his eyes as they bore into her, demanding allegiance and compliance, even submission. She gave Alec all three, willingly. "I won't call them, Alec. I never…I wasn't going to I just wanted…."

"Wanted what, Max? To get a reaction out of me? To threaten me?" Alex fired back roughly pulling the phone from Max's grip and standing up, needing to get away, to get his emotions back in check. To come to terms with the odds, the opposition that stood in his way of what he wanted, what he needed.

Worried that Alec would not forgive her for her tactics, her threat, that he would walk out the door and never let her get close again, Max stowed her lingering trepidation to match wills with Alec in his present mood. "Yeah on both accounts," she boldly admitted, looking up at Alec, her heart pounding in her chest as she easily read the firestorm in his eyes. But she was a soldier too, fought for her own causes, to keep safe what she loved. "You're here but you're not, Alec. You're out there with them."

"Clearly I'm not," Alec shot back, the words, the truth hurting him in places that shouldn't exist, not in the soldier he was, the man he thought he was. "And this," he held up his phone tightly gripped in his hand, "This is the only tie I have to them, Max. And what? You want me to throw it away, to not be there when they need me."

"What about your life here, now? When they **don't** need you." Catching the minuscule flinch that went through Alec at her words, she gentled her tone. "You're just going through the motions of living, they would want more for you, Alec. Even I know them well enough to know that," she quietly reasoned, didn't need to detect the hitch in Alec's breathing to know she was right. "I don't know what's happening between you three and I don't have to. I already know it's something bad. They are in danger out there and, whether you want to face it or not, you're in danger here. What we do, who we are, it puts you in danger. How pissed would Dean be if he knew you almost got killed last night on that mission because you kept your phone on waiting on his call?"

For the first time in a month, a shadow of a smirk appeared on Alec's features. Dropping his look from Max, Alec scratched the back of his head before he slid his hand down his neck to complete his nervous tell. "Ah, really pissed…make-me-do-all-the-laundry-for-a-month pissed."

Standing up, Max walked to Alec, was relieved he didn't shift back from her as she put her hand on his chest. "They will call Alec. And it would probably be _great_ if you were alive to take the call, alive and maybe rested and not about to pass out from not eating. 'Cause when you get that call, they will need you to be at top form, to be ready to use your Manticore given talents and save their butts, right?"

Closing his eyes, Alec drew in a breath and released it before he nodded his head. "It's just…harder than I thought."

"What is?"

"Being left behind……having a family," Alec confessed, opening his eyes, looking down at Max's upturned face. "Loving someone more than I love myself, more than I love my own life," he nearly whispered, his hand gently coming up to trace her eyebrow and trail down her cheek.

Max gave a wide smile, "Well, talking from experience, I know what you do when it comes down to a choice between saving your life or taking someone else's life." And there was a sad smile on Alec's lips at her reference to his attack on her and Joshua, his readily abandoned plan to take their lives to prevent a chip from exploding in his head. With a tilt of her head that sent her hair sliding to the left, Max continued, "Course the girl in that situation might be pissed off for awhile, might make you do some penance but eventually she comes around. After she realizes the choice you had, knows the self sacrifice you made to save her life. She's not totally clueless."

"Not at all," Alec agreed with a smile. "Thanks Max."

"For what? Making threats, getting you angry?" Max taunted, needing him to say the words, to reassure her that she had gotten through to him.

"Yeah…that," Alec replied, a light laugh in his tone. "And saving me from getting my butt kicked by Dean …and Sam for taking foolish risks, for almost getting myself killed." Then he sobered, met her eyes steadily, "For helping me to get myself together, to be ready when they call," because that mattered the most. Being ready, being able to be what his brothers wanted him to be, needed to be, to have the stamina, the will, the heart to fight whatever battle he had to and win, to not lose either of his brothers.

"Nothing you haven't done for me, Alec. I think Manticore taught a class on it…" At Alec's confused look and tilt of his head, Max joked, "Yeah, it was titled, "Pushing People's Buttons To Get What You Want 101."

"Oh right, how could I forget that one. I believe you were at the head of the class," Alec joked back, which earned him a light punch to the gut. Pulling Max into his arms, he rested his chin on her head, felt her arms slip around him, hold him tightly.

Alec, he wasn't alone, he knew that. Max was there for him, and so was Joshua and some others. Trouble was, none of them were Dean, none of them were Sam. In the months since his brothers had been gone, he had come to realize that they had left a gaping void in his life, had slipped into the Impala with most of his heart shoved into their back pockets…or tossed it into the trunk, where most of their treasured possessions were stowed.

"Tell me again that they will call me," Alec quietly said, his tone more plea than lighthearted scoff.

"Alec, they'll call you. When it's safe, when they need you, they'll call," Max reassured, her voice strong yet soft, knowing the vulnerable ground she was treading upon.

But that was part of Alec's worry, that it would _never_ be safe, that they would decide that they didn't need him, another brother, another liability, another weakness. "I need them Max…even if they never need me. I need them."

"I know," Max admitted, pulling back to meet Alec's eyes, sympathy and hope in her gaze. "They need you too, Alec. More than that, they want you." Then a true smile turned up her lips and a spark came into her eyes. "And I got proof: Sam bunking on that tiny kid mattress, Dean sticking around here eating Mole's crappy cooking, if that doesn't tell you they love you nothing will."

A laugh burst from Alec because Max was right. Winchesters may never say I love you …but they certainly showed it in a thousand, crazy, twisted ways. '_And one of those ways was going to be a telephone call.'_

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Alec was walking back to his quarters after a late night shift when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number. His heart tripping in his chest, he answered the phone, fleeting hope flaring to life that a voice he desperately needed to hear would be on the line. "Hello," he answered, cringed at the gravely, breathless sound of his voice that proved that his emotions were far from hidden.

"Hey, it's Sam."

Alec's breath caught and he felt like part of his soul that was AWOL for nearly two months was back, was on the phone. "Sam," and there was no hiding the joy in his voice, the relief, knew he had no need or desire to hide either emotion from his brother. "Is everything alright? Should I meet you somewhere?" he asked as he quickened his pace to his room, was already planning the weapons he would grab, knew his clothing was in a bag on the floor by the door as it had been for months, ready for his departure.

"No. I mean..everything is…fine," came Sam's breathless reply.

Alec stumbled to a stop. Sam's breath wasn't gone due to exertion; it was squeezed out by hurt, by fear. Feeling the matching fear leap into his chest, he clenched his jaw. Knew that nothing was fine, with Sam…and now with him. Knew just as instinctively that the worst hadn't happened, that Sam wasn't telling him Dean was dead but he feared Sam's next words all the same.

At Alec's silence, Sam knew his little brother didn't believe his bluff. He wasn't sure if he even wanted him to. He desperately, cowardly wanted someone to understand what he was going through, to feel what he felt, to know the abyss that was lying in wait for him. When he spoke again, his voice was ravaged, "I had a way to save Dean. Maybe not the greatest solution but …" His voice cracked on the next words. "He shut me down, Alec."

"What way?!" Alec fired back, heart quickening in his chest at Sam's '_way to save Dean_,' never mind the words that followed.

"Dean wouldn't even consider it!" Sam railed, a growl in his tone, uncovering his frustration, his anger but still unable to sufficiently mask the emotions that were underneath it all: terror, despair, love. "Said he would rather go to …." Sam bit his lip, closed his eyes. He couldn't say the word, couldn't think of that place, not _ever_ with his brother in it. Couldn't shut out Dean's last words to Bela, '_See you in Hell_,' meaning it, accepting his fate, giving up whatever feeble hope he had held onto for a year.

Alec's voice in his ear was a lifeline to him, was a lifeline not so different than Dean had always been. Steadied him, brought him back from the brink of destruction, of hopelessness, of merciless solitude.

"Whoa, whoa, Sam. I'm coming into this blind. Tell me how you were going to save Dean?" Alec asked, unnerved a little by the fact that he was trying to calm Sam, to give Sam support when the older man had always steadied him.

"Immortality," Sam breathed as if it were a dirty little secret, one to be whispered, an idea that good people didn't utter, let alone contemplate putting into motion.

The word cut through Alec's calm, made him still in the middle of his room, phone clutched tightly in his hand. "Immortality…that even possible?" because if it was out there to be done, Manticore would have wanted to do it.

Relieved to not hear condemnation in Alec's reply, Sam released his held breath. "Apparently it is. This doctor…he used science to keep himself alive. Thing is…" Sam shuffled on his feet, looked across the gas station to the motel where Dean was sleeping in their room. "He needed to keep….replacing parts…body parts." Before Alec could reply, he hurriedly exclaimed, "I know, I know, it's twisted and wrong in a thousand ways! I know that, you of all people, after all that Manticore did, you don't approve but…this is _my brother_ we're talking about, Alec! He's going to die, to go to Hell if I don't…" he couldn't say it, couldn't even scrape together enough belief in the word again to let it pass through his head, let alone cross his lips.

'.._if I don't save him_,' Alec heard the words as if Sam had spoken them, had had them echoing in his own mind too often for them to not come unbidden. "How do we do it?" he asked matter-of-factly, not flinching away from doing whatever dirty tasks he had to do for his brothers, both of them. Had done despicable things at Manticore's bidding, he sure wouldn't lose any sleep doing whatever he had to in order to save his family, to keep them safe…forever if had the chance.

Taken aback by Alec's quick, determined reply, Sam stammered, "Alec…Dean said no."

"What do you say?" Alec shot back, surprised to find himself willing to go against Dean's wishes, to go against anyone's but his own if it meant keeping his brother with him.

Sam's breath left him in a rush. He knew what Alec was asking, what he was offering. To save Dean…to go against Dean's wishes…to betray Dean to save him. To follow in the Winchester steps of saving someone anyway they could, no matter the consequences, no matter what it would lead to later, what it would feel like to be saved that way.

Sam choked on a sob. "Dean said Doc Benton was a monster…and he was Alec. He was," he brokenly admitted but he couldn't shut out the memory of the demented doctor's voice yelling, promising, '_I can help you_!' even as Dean shoveled the first load of dirt onto the doc's tomb. Dean hadn't slowed down his progress, not once, not until the dirt piled onto the refrigerator, hid it, muffled the doctor's pleas…his offers. Didn't stop until he had buried the only hope to save him that Sam had found after a year of looking.

Tears tracking down his cheeks, Sam gripped the phone tighter, looked at the Impala across the street through blurred vision. "I just want someone to help him, Alec. Cause I can't…" and the admission cost him, shattered his voice, decimated the reign of control he always struggled to maintain in front of Dean. "I don't know how! He's going to die, Alec. In three weeks he's going to leave me."

It was too much for Alec, Sam's pain. His brother's despair mixed toxically with his own, drown him with the hopelessness of it all. "Where are you, Sam?" Alec demanded, needed to be there, to be with Sam in his worry, to be with Dean for as long as he could, as long as he had to spend in his oldest brother's presence.

Remembering what could still be lost if he didn't get himself under control, not only Dean but Alec too, Sam drew in a steady breath, raised a shaking hand to wipe away his tears. "No. Dean's right. We can't let them know about you."  
Frustration and need overriding any brotherly obedience, Alec argued, "I rode with you guys for months! You hung out at transgenic central. It's a good bet they know about me, Sam!"

"Even if that's true, they don't think you're tied with us anymore. I even stole some poor schmuck's cell phone to call you on instead of using my own," Sam tried to make light of the situation, to deny that he wanted Alec there too, wanted backup, wanted reinforcement, wanted his little brother there to help protect their big brother.

"Am I Sam? Am I tied with you?" Alec achingly asked, couldn't help the catch in his voice any more than Sam could his own a moment before. "You left me behind and I haven't heard from you in months."

"Course you're still tied to us! Just because we don't want to put you in unwarranted danger doesn't mean we're not family," Sam quickly refuted even as he felt like a hypocrite. His father had done the same thing to him and Dean. He, of all people, knew what it felt like to be left behind, how it felt like betrayal, that type of love, that type of protection. "Fact, in the Winchester world, if we leave you eating our dust, it definitely means your family."

Alec didn't refute Sam's claim. Somehow knew it was the truth by the little the brothers had talked about the year they had spent trying to find their father when he didn't want to be found, not if it put them in danger. "Well, your protection routine…it blows."

"I know. Trust me, I know," Sam commiserated with a sad laugh, feeling some of the crushing hopelessness lift after sharing his pain, his fear, his disappointment with Alec. After all, they didn't need a solution…not today, not for three whole, long, fabulous weeks. '_Yeah, plenty of time for us to come up with a miracle',_ he sardonically thought. "So how's the transgenic equal rights rallies going? I saw some news coverage on the good you guys are doing," he asked, switching topics.

"'Bout as good as my Winchester equal rights fight," Alec parried back petulantly. Sam's silent reply told him that his barb had wounded his brother, had him internally cursing himself and making apologies. "Sam, I'm sorry. I know I have no right to resent you…"

"Don't you?" Sam quietly replied, knowing only too well whose fault all this was: Dean's looming date with hell hounds, Alec not being able to be with them, to spend time with his _dying_ brother.

It only took Alec a moment to understand the guilt he heard in Sam's voice, to remember that tone. It had been there when Sam had told him about how Dean's deal had come about, that Dean had done it to save him, that it was his mistake that had gotten him killed, not any failings on Dean's part, no matter what Dean thought. "No, I don't have a right to resent you, Sam. But it's….hard…being sidelined…being kept in the dark. And you said…you said you didn't want to waste the time you had left with Dean. Well, I don't either and it's…" but he broke off, couldn't choke out '_nearly gone_.' Bit his lip to keep the words unsaid.

"I know, he's your brother too," Sam miserably stated, remembered Dean's same words about their father. Wondered if it was a curse in their family, that to keep one family member you had to lose another? Had to always be willing to sacrifice someone you loved in order to keep a hold of someone you loved even more.

"Crappy timing on my part to pick out a family, huh?" Alec tried to joke though his voice was again gravelly, said more about despair than mirth.

"Yeah and you could have selected better. I hear the Hiltons always wanted a boy…" Sam reciprocated Alec's tactics with little better success.

Alec snorted. "Can you see me as some rich kid, being all preppy 'joe college'? I would be bored within a week and probably run up daddy's lawyer bills higher than the national deficient. Nah, I got exactly the family I wanted, Sam. I have no regrets on that account." '_Not yet, not unless Dean goes and dies on me…on us. Then regrets will be the mildest of things I will feel_.' And that thought, that real possibility broke down Alec's wall of pride. "Sam, please…_please_ don't go into the end game without me. Promise me that, Sam. Promise me?!"

"I already made that promise, remember?" Sam teased like Alec was begging to go along for ice cream, like it was a promise that wasn't keeping Sam up at night, among other worries. Like he hadn't realized Dean had made no similar promise to Alec…or even to him that he wouldn't walk away, try to face his fate all alone. And Dean's refusal to even contemplate using Doc Benton's immortality formula, it told Sam more than he ever wanted to know about how far Dean would go to see the deal through, to keep him safe. Proved to him what Dean was willing and unwilling to do to save his own life, his own soul.

But a conviction borne out of desperation, out of love was starting to grow in Sam. '_Dean's not willing to risk what I will, won't cross the lines I'm willing to cross to save him._' And that was a contradiction to everything he had fought against since learning that he could turn evil. But it was becoming painfully clear as the days slipped away, as he drew closer and closer to losing Dean: what good was his clear conscience, his soul if Dean was dead? If Dean's own soul was being torn to shreds in Hell for all of eternity?!

"When we go after who holds Dean's contract…I'll call you Alec, you'll be part of it," Sam vowed, meaning it. '_Even if I have to do it against Dean's wishes, even if it puts Alec in as much danger as it puts Dean. God forgive me, but I'm willing to risk everything and everyone for even the chance to save Dean_.' "But, Alec…it's …I can't …what might happen…I can't protect you," he stammered, wanted Alec to know how dangerous things would be, to try and warn the younger man, to make him see how desperate he was, what steps he might take for victory, what he might risk, _who_ he might risk to save his brother. To save the brother that he had had his whole life, the brother that had given up everything he had for him since the day he was born.

"I'm not asking you to protect me, Sam. I don't even want you to try. We both have one goal, right? The same goal: To save Dean. And in my experience, backup is good, an ace in the hole is swell but motivation, now that's the real tie breaker. And you and I? We've got that in spades. With all of us fighting side by side, Hell had better bring more than a few Hell Hounds to the party," Alec boldly declared, fiercely protective of his brothers. These past months he had come to realize just how far he was willing to go to safeguard them, to keep them with him.

Sam gave a choked laugh, not sure he had ever loved Alec more than he did right then. "For a little brother, you're awesome Alec. Well, I got to go before Dean calls me wondering where his pie is. And by the way…Dean and I…we miss you."

"Me too," Alec readily admitted only to find he was talking to empty air. Sam had already disconnected the call, was apparently as anxious to return to Dean as he was to be with his brothers. "Take care of yourselves," he murmured. Then he stood there tightly clutching his phone in his hand long after Sam had hung up.

They had called, well Sam had called. He had heard his brother's voice…and it wasn't enough. Just like Sam's promise wasn't enough. Not when in three weeks Dean might be gone, Sam might fold in onto himself, when the family he had never _dreamed_ he could have was on the brink of destruction. And he was just standing there, holding a phone like it was a life line. Manticore's best and brightest, benched in the war that would decide his own fate as surely as it would decide Dean's.

'_Patience_,' he growled to himself just like his Manticore instructors had said time and time again. '_Patience and perseverance will win the day_,' they had drilled into him. But since meeting the Winchesters, he had learned something Manticore had not taught him, had done everything in their power to not let him learn: That the most powerful weapon wasn't grafted into DNA strains, was freely given, was love. And love, it had a tenacious way of winning wars that should, by all accounts, be lost. '_And it's going to win this one to. It has to,_' he vowed, slipping the cell phone in his pocket and heading for bed. He had to get some sleep, had to be prepared for the battle ahead, had to be ready when the phone rang again and his brothers called him home.

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TBC

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Thanks for the reviews and encouragement for last chapter! It keeps me plugging away on this story even though the plot is now a season behind.

I promise, Dean's in the next chapter!

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	15. Chapter 15

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: From here on out there are spoilers galore for No Rest for the Wicked. And I goofed!! I mentioned that they were looking for Lilith in the earlier chapters but, really at that point in the storyline, Sam and Dean didn't know who held Dean's contract. Sorry for the confusion! So as this chapter unfolds, Alec doesn't know who holds Dean's contract or about the colt getting lifted from them.

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Chapter 15

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Alec couldn't leave his room, couldn't put his phone down, couldn't stop looking at his watch, at the calendar he had posted on his wall for the sole purpose of tracking this countdown. Tomorrow. It ended tomorrow: the countdown, most likely his family, the life he wanted though knew he never really deserved. Dean's deal was due tomorrow and Sam had not called. Dean hadn't called. His phone had remained cruelly silent, not even offering false hope in his hour of need.

Leaning his head against the window, the outside world marred by the moisture in his eyes, he felt his every nerve ending itching for action, ached to do _something_ to stop the clock. Wanted so badly to shut out his thoughts, to hang onto hope, to not second guess Sam and Dean's affection for him, to believe that they were going to call, that Dean wasn't going to die, couldn't. That if he dared enough to love someone as strongly as he loved Dean, he wouldn't be taken away from him. That fate couldn't be that cruel.

Closing his eyes, he clenched his fist and cursed his naïveté. Fate didn't care about what he wanted, about what he needed. Didn't care that he needed his brothers, both of them. That Dean didn't deserve to die, would never deserve the torment of Hell. Had come to bitterly understand that love was a double edged sword, that it had the capacity to hurt as much as it healed, could miraculously save you or callously condemn you. That just because he loved someone, it didn't mean they didn't leave him.

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Standing in the middle of the room, Joshua worriedly watched Alec pace in the small confines. Knew his young friend was coming apart, was enduring more than he could bear, knew just as certainly that he didn't have the means to help Alec. "Are you alright?" he gently asked, though he knew the answer, honestly didn't expect to get the truth from Alec.

It was too ridiculous a question, had Alec exhaling an unsettling, off kilter laugh. He was so far from alright that he couldn't even verbalize a comeback. The sound seemed to galvanize Joshua because he stepped closer, gripped his arm, met his eyes head on. Instantly Alec saw the worry, the affection in the big transgenic's eyes but it only made the absence of his big brothers harder to take.

"You aren't alone, Alec. Max here. I'm here. Dean and Sam, they will come back," Joshua reassured, the look in Alec's eyes reminding him too sharply of his little brother's hopelessness when father left.

"Like your father came back, Josh?" Alex taunted, his own hurt too great not to inflict hurt on others, even onto a friend that only wanted to help him.

The barb was unexpected, hurt Joshua but he understood Alec's need to lash out…just as he understood Isaac's need to inflict pain the way it had been inflicted on him. "Father didn't come back…didn't mean he didn't want to."

"Yeah, well, what we want in life and what we get…" Alec ripped his arm from Joshua's hold, stepped back, "it's not always the same thing. Just because Lydecker stole Dean's blood, did a little lab hocus pocus and created me, that doesn't make us brothers, does it?! When they needed me before, to maybe make sure they didn't lose their dad…where was I?" Alec lowly challenged, eyes blazing with self hatred. "I was playing soldier, doing Manticore's bidding, killing all the wrong people for all the wrong reasons. I'm something they should be _hunting_…not _adopting_," he sneered, welcoming his anger because it felt so much better than letting his fear continue to run rampant in him. "It was **stupid** of me to let my guard down. I know how it ends, how it always ends when I care about someone."

"Story's not done," Joshua cut in firmly as he stalked to the calendar, stabbed at the next day's block that had no markings on it, revealed nothing…except the print '2nd' was faded, like fingers had brushed over it too many times, had tried to make it not exist. "Calendar still here, tomorrow not here yet. Whatever you don't want to happen…it hasn't happened yet, right? There is still time."

"Time for what?! To write his eulogy!? To breakdown and call them and maybe screw up whatever plans they have…to throw away whatever slim chance at victory they have going for them?!" Alec thundered. But his voice broke on his next words and the brave mask he wore was discarded, leaving only despair in its place. "I won't even get to _see_ him." A tear slipped free, tracked down his face as he finally said aloud what hurt the most. He met Joshua's gentle eyes, choked out, "And you can't make that better, Joshua. You just _can't_."

"Alec…I'm sorry. I don't know ……"Joshua hesitantly said, wishing he understood even as he knew it wasn't his place to ask, that trying to get Alec to tell him would only hurt his young friend more.

"I…I appreciate that you came by but I just want to be alone," Alec nearly whispered as he turned his back on Joshua, on the hope Joshua wanted to offer, on the affection he saw in the transgenic's eyes.

"If you need me…I'll come back," Joshua offered, promised what Alec's brothers had not. But if Alec made the correlation, he didn't acknowledge it, didn't turn around. With sorrow sinking into his heart, Joshua walked out of the room, closed the door behind him, left Alec alone with his despair, knew he hadn't helped Alec. That he couldn't help Alec anymore than he had been able to help his little brother with his own sadness when father didn't return.

Looking to the closed door, thinking of the nearly broken man inside, Joshua feared that he would lose yet another brother to despair. Because, if Alec's brothers never came back, he didn't know if Alec would survive that loss. Would _want_ to survive it. Thinking about his conversation with Dean, he remembered the oldest Winchester said Alec wasn't thanking him for making him his brother…and maybe that was partially true ..then and now. If Alec had never met the Winchesters he wouldn't be hurting now, wouldn't feel more alone than he had ever felt before. But Alec also wouldn't have ever laughed so often, smiled so genuinely, been so happy and content and sure of himself if he hadn't found his brothers, if they hadn't found him. Given the choice, Joshua knew Alec would still choose to have his brothers, to be a little brother, to even suffer this pain, this misery because family was worth it, Dean and Sam were worth it. And his brothers, they had shown Alec what his worth was, that it appraised way more than Manticore had invested in him, could _ever_ invest it him. That, to them, he was priceless.

With the conviction that Alec's brothers would do everything they could not to hurt Alec, not to betray the trust he had in them, to come back to him, Joshua walked down the corridor, walked away from Alec. He of all people knew that, sometimes there was no substitute for family, for the ones you loved. And until they came back, all you had to cling to was hope.

SNDASNDASNDA

The room was in shambles. A wall was stained with Scotch where a bottle had impacted, a broken lamp lay upon the couch and even the usually treasured tv had been tossed off its stand, lay screen face down on the floor. But none of that devastation neared the level imploding in Alec. His trembling form was bathed in the weak light filtering through the window, light from the rising sun. With a growl of frustration and despair, he punched the wall sending his fist breaking through the wood. But in the next instant, his anger was gone, leaving him defenseless.

Dropping his head to the wall, a long held back sob slipped free. He could no longer shut out the pain that was rendering the world apart, rending his world apart. Could no longer cling faithfully to hope, could no longer pretend that he could endure what came next. "Please," he gasped out, begging for help, for his phone to ring, for Dean to not die. "Please!" he shouted a moment later, slamming both his hands against the wall, demanding mercy where there seemed to be none.

A beat later, his shaking, bloody-knuckled hand was instantly diving for his ringing phone while his heart thudded in his chest, proving that he hadn't lost his last tendril of hope. Not yet. "Hello?" he answered tentatively, hopefully, voice so raw that it was unmistakable that he was on the edge, was practically over it. In that beat of silence he prayed that the person on the other side of the connection was someone that knew him well enough to hear that emotion in his voice. Was someone that _cared_ that he was shattering, would do whatever he could to make this stop: his hurt, this ticking clock, the impending end of whatever future he had come to see for himself, for his family.

His caller cleared his throat and Alec lost the last of his breath. Dean didn't _need_ to speak: he knew that voice, that gesture. His brother hadn't abandoned him after all and apparently neither had mercy because Dean had _called_.

"Hey Alec, it's…" Dean began, as if his little brother wouldn't recognize his voice, hadn't been begging to hear it for months…since his brothers had left TC.

"Dean," his brother's name came out of Alec as a whoosh of affectionate, relieved breath of air. And it felt like he had not uttered his brother's name forever, like he had made it taboo. A name too dear, too painful to say aloud.

"Is this a bad time? 'Cause I can call back later…" Dean offered, though he knew there wasn't too much later that he had left. The warmth, the tremor in Alec's tone, it was unexpected, weakened some of his walls, made him think of things he didn't want to: like maybe Alec was as desperate to save him as Sam was. That maybe he couldn't trust Alec to protect himself above him anymore than he could Sam. Made him wonder if Sam wasn't the only little brother that he had to worry would contemplate crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed.

"No!" Alec shouted, panicked that Dean would hang up, sever the tie before he could show Dean he wouldn't stand for that, that they were in this **together**. "No. I've been waiting for your call," he downplayed, knew Dean didn't need or want his emotional outburst. '_Feels like I've been waiting for you to call most of my life. That somehow, even when I didn't know you or Sam existed, I missed you…was missing something in myself that no one and nothing could fill. Until now._'

"I've been watching the news, I'm proud of you Alec," Dean praised. After the first positive news coverage, it had been hard not calling and congratulating his little brother, had left him badly wanting to just hear Alec's voice, to detect the smirk in his brother's tone. "Your plan is really coming together. I bet you'll soon be getting medals instead of arrest warrants. Too bad you're not going by Alec Winchester, the name could use some good PR for a change," he joked, unearthing some levity for Alec where he hadn't been able to for Sam. Had learned that it was a lost cause with Sam, his brother knew him too well, was _there_ with him, knew he had no defenses left, could see the exhaustion in his eyes, his need for this to be over, one way or the other. But he could shelter Alec from that knowledge, from his weakness.

Instead of his heart swelling at Dean's praise, at the idea that Dean wanted him to publicly declare the Winchester name, Alec's heart twisted painfully. Because all that, it just made him, inconceivably, treasure Dean _more_, made the threat of losing his brother more unbearable than it already was. "Dean.." He choked out, needing Dean to stop, to not be _nice_, to not treat him like he was his brother, like he deserved his love. It was destroying him from the inside out.

Hearing the plea in Alec's voice, Dean exhaled, knew that Alec wasn't placated by his deflection anymore than Sam ever was. Shuffling his stance against the Impala, seeing his breath leaking into the air, his gut told him he hadn't rehearsed his speech for Alec enough, had felt the same thing when he gave Sam the one he tailored for him. Had come to understand that different brothers required different approaches.

Sam was in this as deeply as he was, was bound to this battle in ways he wished he wasn't, in ways he wished he could sever. But Alec, Alec didn't have to be. He could be Alec's big brother one last time and save him, save him when he couldn't save himself, when he might not be able to save Sam.

"We think we know who holds my contract and we're going after her," Dean stated, knew it was actually a cruelty to give Alec wanted he wanted, thought he wanted because Alec wouldn't like what came next. Might hate him for it…like he had after he learned about his deal, that he was might be leaving him behind.

Where Alec needed to hear conviction in his brother's too rough voice, strength, all he detected was exhaustion, resignation. "Where should I meet you?" he quickly asked, stalking to the other side of the trashed room, picking up his packed duffle bag and heading for the door

Drawing on the strength he reserved solely for the service of saving the ones he loved, Dean bluntly commanded, "You're not going with us, Alec." Because he could keep at least one of his brothers from paying an unholy price for the mess he had made, could succeed with Alec where he was failing with Sam.

Panic and hurt seared through Alec, stole away his breath. Dean couldn't shut him out, not now! Dean had called, was alive, was talking to him. How could he expect him to simply give up on him, to not fight for him, to say _goodbye_?! "Yes, I am!"he growled, his own resolve flaring to life, overshadowing his fear, even his need to be the loyal little brother. Because, crap, he was loyal to Dean, but that loyalty…it went beyond following Dean's orders. Way beyond….dangerously beyond that.

"No, Alec. You're not," Dean shot back heatedly but knew Alec well enough to know he wouldn't back down, not until he saw the whole picture, made his own assessment. Dean gave a bitter bark of laughter. The whole picture?! It was as pathetic as it was bound to be gruesome. "Alec, our _plans_," he scoffed, "they are pretty pathetic, man. They have a snowball's chance in….well, you know…of working." His voice dropped an octave when he continued, needed Alec to see why he couldn't come along, why he shouldn't even want to. "No use you dying with us, Alec. You have a family already: Max and Joshua. Stay with them."

Coming to a stop in his room's doorway, Alec, stammering, repeated Dean's words, "No.. _use_…" his voice breaking as fury, anguish and terror overran his emotional floodgates all at once. "You _bastard_," he growled as he braced his free hand on the doorframe to keep himself upright, together. But the hurled curse was a sob because he couldn't shut out Dean's words, couldn't even deny them: '_dying with us…no use you __dying with us__._' Dean wasn't going to let him fight at his side. Dean was _giving up_, wasn't even trying to maintain his big brotherly protective role, was no longer shielding him from the worst of truths.

Through the slur, Dean detected the devastation, knew that Alec was railing back out of pain, fear, not true hatred. "I know it doesn't mean much but I really am sorry for how things have turned out, Alec. If I had known about you sooner, we could have had more time together, you have to believe that," he implored, needing Alec to know he had regrets, that he wanted a future with him, wished he had had more of a past with him. Giving a forced laugh, he tried to lighten the dark mood he had brought to the 'room', tried to shelter Alec one last time, "Course that might be a curse instead. Sam, he's had to put up with me, for what…23 years and he'll tell you it's not been a picnic."

"Stop," Alec choked out, pleaded as tears slipped down his cheeks, as his hand increased its white knuckled grip on the phone, on the only link he had to his brother. "Dean, please just…" But he couldn't go on, couldn't say more, didn't have the breath..or the words. Only '_Stop_!!' was screaming through him, whistling through his soul like it was vacant and nothing was there but agony. This agony.

Closing his eyes at the anguish in Alec's voice, Dean bowed his head, clenched the phone tighter in his grip. '_What a piss poor brother I've been to him. But he has to know it's not what I want, to leave, to not be there for him, with him. _"I _tried_ Alec," he ardently vowed, voice so low, so rough, so vulnerable. But he trusted Alec, knew his little brother wouldn't use his weakness to hurt him anymore than Sam ever would. "And I'm still trying but…" He drew in a breath, said what he hadn't said to Sam. "The odds…they aren't good. At all, Alec."

"So let me try to improve them," Alec's offer more insistence than suggestion as he greedily latched onto the opening Dean had unwittingly given to him. '_Let me be a part of this family, Dean. A real part…even if it means we all die together. I'm Ok with that.'_

But Dean's reply was instantaneous, all big brother uncompromising steel. "No."

"You're letting Sam go with you!" burst from Alec even as he cringed, knew he sounded like a pouting child, a pouting little brother. '_Fine, that's what I am. A little brother, Dean's little brother and he has to face that…accept that!'_

Dean's voice was hard, full of frustration as he repeated, "Letting him go?! If I don't agree to go with him, Sam will go alone on this suicide mission." He had seen the resolve in Sam's eyes, had heard the desperation in his tone as he knelt on the basement floor, conjured up Ruby, asked for her _help_ to save his life. And, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't misinterpret what was in Sam's eyes every time he looked at him: terror…and love. No, Sam was leaving him no choice, no choice at all. They were going to fight at each other's sides, come Hell or high water. Literally.

"Well, you're not leaving me behind either, Dean!" Alec said dangerously, ready and willing to fight for his right to stand at his brother's side, both of them and defend what was his: his brother, his family. Hearing Dean's intake of breath, he cut off his brother's protest ruthlessly. "Your father, he didn't _shelter_ you, knew that if he did that, it would only make you vulnerable. Instead he taught you about evil, showed you how to hunt, did it so you could _protect_ yourselves, protect _your family_, be ready to survive anything that came at you. And, like it or not, you taught me the same thing, that family, that _Winchesters_ always have each other's backs, always _fight_ for each other. So am I a Winchester or not, Dean?!" he demanded harshly, hoped his tone concealed the way his heart was pounding in his chest, the fear that was gathering in his gut, the worry that Dean would shatter the bond they had…even as Alec knew his brother would only do it to save him. '_I don't want to be saved if you're not Dean. Why can't you see that?!' _

Dean's desire to protect Alec, to keep him _safe_, it wasn't stronger than his need to prove to Alec that they were family: he and Sam and him. They were family and nothing…nothing could undo that. He wouldn't let it. Giving a quick bark of laughter, he reassured, "Oh, you're a Winchester, Alec. Through and through."

Releasing the breath he had been holding, Alec felt part of himself settle into a newly made place in his soul. Manticore had droned on and on about never abandoning your unit and he had always thought that was a crock. His unit hadn't even _liked_ him, certainly hadn't known him, had abandoned him time and time again. But now, for the first time, he had a unit, knew that abandoning them? Them abandoning him? It would be akin to suicide, to murder. "Well, then you know the only place for me to be is with you. You are my brother and I can't lose you, alright? I can't sit on my hands knowing that you're fighting for your life. And if something _happens_ to you…I can't bear to live the rest of my life wondering if I could have saved you. It's not 'or' with you and Sam…you live or Sam lives, it never was. And it's not 'or' with me either. It's all or nothing. We're all in or all out. Either we all survive or none of us do. Because, whether you want to hear this or not, I would rather die with you than live without you, Dean…and so would Sam."

Warmed even as he was terrified by Alec's devotion, Dean found a smirk turning up his lips. Alec's speech wasn't so different than the one he had delivered to Sam half an hour ago. "If we go down, we should go down swinging?" he asked wryly, plagiarized his own speech.

"Yeah!" Alec happily agreed, relieved that Dean got it, finally grasped what he was trying to say, understood that he couldn't be anywhere but fighting at his side. "Now that that's solved, tell me the game plan. Who holds your contract?" he quickly demanded, didn't want Dean to rethink his decision, to devise another speech about him staying out of the fight.

Suppressing a sigh, Dean admitted defeat on another battle field front. It was wrong how many victories Sam and now Alec had claimed in the recent months. He would have been bitter about it had he not known his little brothers had only waged their battles for him, to save him. He prayed he could return the favor, could save them…even if he couldn't manage to save himself that night. "Lilith. We think Lilith holds my contract."

"Lilith, the little girl? The one that wants Sam dead, that Lilith?" Alec returned, surprise and disgust in his tone as he walked out of his room, bag over his shoulder, already planning his route out of town.

"One and the same. We think she's in New Harmony, Indiana," Dean supplied, trepidation tightening in his chest at the confrontation to come, at the danger Sam and now Alec would be in, all because of him.

"And your plan is…"

"Crappy," Dean groused back but faltered under Alec's soft entreaty of "Dean…." Exhaling, Dean elaborated, "Our plan is to kill her and hope that breaks my deal. Except we've traded up the Colt for Ruby's knife. Don't ask why. I'll tell you everything later," he quickly said, even as he internally qualified, '_well, Sam will tell you everything later'_, because he couldn't _think _about there not being a later for Sam, for Alec. If he did, if he honestly thought about his brothers dying trying to protect him… he would tie Sam to a chair, disconnect his call with Alec and take the Impala and head south until the Hounds tracked him down.

Alec's hope was bolstered hope that Dean believed there would be a later. Dismissing the details, he focused on the here and now, the fight to come. "So I'll meet you in Indiana."

Knowing that Alec would be there, that he would get to see his little brother again, maybe for the last time, it was a blessing… and a curse for Dean. Added to the tally of what he was risking, what was being risked _for him_.

Clenching his jaw, Dean looked off to the horizon, wondered if it was the last sunrise he would see. And he didn't even have his usual barriers in place, couldn't conjure up his standard bravado, was finally brave enough, weak enough to admit, even if it was only to himself, that he didn't want to die…definitely didn't want to leave Sam, leave Alec. Perfect Winchester timing for a revelation of that magnitute..when it was probably far too late. Trying to shake off the darkness clawing at his last thread of hope, he broke from his thoughts, said, "We've got a long drive so we'll probably only get there late in the day."

With Dean's simple words, Alec felt boneless with relief, knew them for what they were: permission, acceptance, gratitude…even affectionate welcome. He was going to see Dean, was going to be part of the fight. And he wasn't going to let Dean die. He just wasn't. "I'm heading out now. I'll stay on the outskirts of town until you call me." Stalking down the corridor, his mind was already there, with Dean, with his brothers. It was the only thing he could think of, the only thing that mattered.

"Lilith, she isn't like anything you have gone up against before, Alec. Yeah, we have Ruby's knife but…there's no guarantee it will kill her. And even if she's dead, my deal…it might still stand," Dean rationalized, needed Alec to know the true risks, that the possibility to save him…it might not even _exist_.

Alec didn't let Dean's words smother his hope, couldn't. "Doesn't mean your deal won't break with her death. And if that doesn't work, we'll kill the Hell Hounds…as many as Hell has to send."

Though the bruises that Ruby had inflicted on his face made the gesture painful, Dean couldn't help smirking. "You better watch it, Alec. You're sounding more and more like a Winchester every day."

Alec's face beamed with a smile and he cockily drawled, "Thanks for the compliment." He was rewarded with Dean's chuckle and it eased more of the fear around his heart. Dean was still alive and he and Sam were going to make sure Dean stuck around to be their big brother. Any other possibility was totally unacceptable.

But when Dean spoke again, the levity was gone, was replaced by determination that was all Winchester. "Alec, if things do go…badly. I need you to do something for me…"

At Dean's words, fear shot through Alec anew. "Dean…" he protested, didn't want to hear more, didn't want Dean to even consider the idea that they weren't going to save him. Hated that Dean had practically voiced it aloud, would not tolerate Dean giving him some posthumous order. But Dean's quiet, imploring "Alec, please," stole his breath away, made his protests die in his throat.

For all Dean had given him, he hadn't asked for anything back in return. Nothing. Until now.

Drawing in a shaky breath, terrified of what came next, Alec croaked out, "What do you want me to do?" because he honestly didn't know of anything he wouldn't willingly do for Dean, wouldn't do for his family…Didn't know until Dean answered him.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

TBC

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Thanks for the awesome encouragement on the last chapter! Every kind word gets me back to my computer, has me daring to continue to tell this crazy story.

I actually wrote a really long, 20 page chapter but decided I shouldn't torture someone into trying to read it in one sitting. So I've broken it down into three chapters and, after final proofing, I hope to be able to post them soon. I guess I feel like I have to keep your attention before I get totally Kripke'd by the new episode. (I won't mention the details because I hate spoilers…so please mums the word on any unseen eps. I LOVE suspense, and mystery and surprises…well in TV shows and movies, not real life.)

Have a wonderful day!

Cheryl W.


	16. Chapter 16

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Spoilers for No Rest for the Wicked.

SNDASNDASNDASN

Chapter 16

SNDASNDASNDASN

From his vantage point in the abandoned house, Sam saw Dean disconnect his call with Alec and slip his phone back into his pocket, his face turned away from him, purposefully if he knew his brother. But, like he had told Dean, he _knew_ him…could read Dean's mood by the set of his shoulders as easily as the play of emotions on his face. And what Dean's shoulders said now was…Sam tilted his head in concentration, confusion, uncertain if his brother was telegraphing relief or further tension.

Hating to think that Dean was feeling worse after talking to Alec, Sam hurriedly grabbed their bags and headed out the door to his brother's side…well to the other side of the Impala because Dean wouldn't tolerate him hovering. It didn't matter that Sam couldn't bear the separate of even a few _yards_ from his brother, that he wanted to latch onto Dean's arm, heck would agree to hold his _hand_ to keep him with him, to ensure he didn't lose Dean, not tonight. Not ever.

But Sam didn't want it to be about what he needed, didn't want to be selfish now. Wanted to give Dean..Well, maybe not what he needed because, Dean, he wasn't asking for that, not even with what was hanging over his head. No, all Sam could give Dean was what he would accept. So he pitched his voice into a casual tone. "You get a hold of Alec?" Tossing both of their bags in the backseat, he couldn't keep his gaze away from his brother's profile, had found that, even leaving Dean out of his sight… it hurt. '_I'm saving you, Dean. We're saving you. Alec and I and you're helping too, jerk. You're not leaving us.'_

"Yeah," Dean shortly answered, tried to not give anything away by the reply.

But Sam had come to know Alec too, knew that his little brother wouldn't submissively follow Dean's order, wouldn't want to be safe when Dean wasn't…not anymore than he would. "And he told you where you could put your "You're staying out of it" speech, right?" he taunted, found a small smile turning up his lips, felt blessed when Dean's head came up and his brother looked at him over the Impala's roof.

"Yeah, he did," Dean admitted with a smile that mirrored Sam's. It was a small smile too but a real one even as he felt the added weight of Alec's life settle onto his shoulders. But being a little brother's keeper, it wasn't a burden, had always been a gift to him. Was still a gift, even if Sam didn't believe him anymore.

"So where is he meeting us?" Sam pressed, needing to know where his reinforcements were being positioned, how they could be utilized in his defensive strategizing should Dean's offensive attack fail.

"He'll be nearby. I said I would call him when we are about in New Harmony," Dean quietly supplied, heart beginning to beat in fear as the final countdown began, as he contemplated his brothers being hurt in this reckless, probably doomed mission. Worse, being killed. And then what would he do?! What did he have left to barter with?! Not his life…not even his soul. Would be right back where he was exactly a year ago: decimated by a loss of someone he couldn't bear to lose, a loss he could have, _should have_ prevented.

Before Dean dropped his eyes from his, Sam easily detected Dean's hesitation, his regret, knew that Dean didn't want Alec in danger anymore than he wanted him to be in danger. Didn't think he was worth anyone _being in danger_, not for him, not to save him, never for him. Maneuvering around the Impala, he came to stand at Dean's side. "He needs to be there, Dean," he quietly insisted. Felt his chest tighten when Dean tilted his head up and he saw the unmasked vulnerability in his brother's eyes.

"Does he Sam?" Dean choked out, a thousand thoughts bombarding him, a million regrets, a billion uncertainties. '_Do you need to be there, Sam? To risk your life?! To watch me die? To see how badly I failed you, to see the price I paid, though willingly, to get you back, to save you? I don't want you to see that, to know that. Ever, Sam. Not ever_.'

"If you're there than that's where he _needs_ to be," Sam pointed out, couldn't not say the rest. "It's where **I** need to be," his resolution unmistakable. Dean needed to understand that there was no other choice for him, never would be. Dean had taken care of him his whole life, had unfailingly been his safety net in a world, in a life that mocked the very idea of safety, of security. But Dean hadn't cared what was possible, had broken all the rules, had not done any of it for revenge, or ego, or selfishness…had done it out of love. Had sold his very soul for him, to save him. Sam would do no less for Dean, had begun to wonder if there was any line he wouldn't willingly cross to save Dean, to show Dean that the love between them, it flowed both ways.

"Sam, you know our chances…" Dean began, wanting Sam to see the truth, to face the odds, to come to grips that all this…it might be useless. That they should have went on a last trip to TJ, that would have at least given him more time with Sam, time when they weren't at odds, weren't discussing Ruby or Sam's supposedly dark powers, were just brothers going for a Mexico run, one last time. And Alec, he could have hopped on a plane, joined them there. They could have been the three amigos for one shining moment. Untouchable.

But Sam refused to accept defeat, knew that was what Dean wanted him to prepare for. And defeat of any kind he could accept…if it didn't involve losing his brother. "I'll quote _you_ if I have to. We're stronger as…"

"A family," Dean finished Sam's sentence with frustration, knowing that this debate had the potential to rage as hotly as all their others when the stakes were one of their lives. "Yeah, I said that but…"

"What? It only applied when Dad's life was in jeopardy, when mine is, when Alec's is?" Sam challenged, coming closer to Dean, eyes blazing, his own frustration rising that his brother couldn't see what was so obvious. "When are you going to realize that there would be no family without you, Dean! Dad and I would have never talked again after I left for college and heck, we wouldn't have traded anything but shouts after I turned thirteen if it hadn't been for you. And Alec…I would have left him rot in that jail, Dean," he confessed, knew that Dean attributed kindness to him that was only there because Dean brought it out in him. "I would have never known what it's like to have a younger brother. Right now, I wouldn't have Alec, someone that I could count on to stand at my side, to be willing to fight with everything he has in order to save what matters most to me: you. And Bobby, you've made him part of our family too."'

"No! He's not!" Dean fiercely denied, didn't want another person linked to him, able to be hurt _because_ of him. Would renounce his own feelings for the older hunter if it kept Bobby safe. "He doesn't have to be part of this. Don't call him back here, Sam. I don't want him risking his life for me."

"He's not here because he decided he wanted to rough it in some abandoned shack for a few days, Dean! He's here because he doesn't want to lose you. If you can't see that, then you don't know him very well!" Sam accused, shocked that Dean was denying what was so evident, that he was honestly trying to cut off Bobby at this late junction, when they could use all the help they could get. When he would use any resources he had to save Dean: Bobby, Alec…even Ruby and whatever old Yellow Eyes had left simmering under the surface in his own soul.

Dean, however, was beyond arguing, had no intentions of losing this particular round with his brother. "Get in the car, Sam. We're leaving. Now," he gruffly ordered, all Winchester steel in his tone, in the look he leveled at Sam before he yanked open the door, slid into the Impala.

Having planned on calling Bobby from the road anyway, Sam walked around the front of the car and sank into the passenger seat without protest. Taking his rightful place at Dean's side, he settled in for the long drive, was secretly, selfishly glad that he would have Dean to himself, that Dean couldn't go anywhere, was trapped with him in the Impala. That Dean could try to shut him out but he couldn't leave him, not yet. '_Never_' he internally snarled at his doubt, ready, geared to face off with Lilith, to face off with the devil himself if he had to in order to keep Dean with him.

But it seemed like the odds were already deserting them when, a moment later, Dean faithfully turned the Impala key…and nothing happened. The car didn't even _try_ to start.

Cursing the other member of the Winchester family, silently, because he still had some self preservation, Sam knew that, no matter how lame it seemed, he should have had a talk with the _Impala. _Should have told her what her assigned duty was, that she couldn't fail them, fail Dean, not now. In hindsight, it seemed a grievous oversight.

When something hit the Impala'a roof, Sam jumped, nearly pulled his gun before Bobby leaned down into the driver's window. Bobby's sharp eyes lanced into Dean before skimming to him and then the mechanic held out an apparently vital piece of the Impala like a ransom…or what it was: leverage to get himself dealt into their fight with Lilith.

A few minutes later when he climbed back into the Impala, Sam couldn't help but smile, Bobby's words echoing in his heart '_Family don't end with blood, boy_.' He couldn't remember feeling more affection for Bobby than in that moment. Bobby was right, family was made up of more things than blood…than DNA, was forged through time and pain, adoration and love. And for Winchesters, the bonds were tested and tempered like steel, until they were weapons. Weapons they wielded to protect those they loved, to dispatch anyone who posed a threat to their family. Lethally and effectively.

Foolishly Lilith had thrown down the gauntlet, was trying to do the worst thing anyone could: to take away one of their own. Sam smiled grimly. Soon she would know the relentlessness of their family, his family. That to get to one of them meant you had to go through the rest of them. And they weren't going to back down, because, to lose this battle, it was to lose the war, was to lose their family, all of it. And Lilith, she could even kill him but he wasn't going to let her have Dean. Dean wasn't going to hell…that just wasn't happening. Would happen over _his_ dead body…just like Dean had vowed to Ruby.

After putting the Impala back to rights, Dean sank into the driver's seat, could feel Sam's eyes on him. And he knew his walls were practically translucent to his brother, that Sam could see that he was touched _and_ troubled by Bobby's loyalty, his anger, by the older hunter's involvement in their almost certainly doomed plan. But as well as Sam knew him, he knew Sam too. Knew what was coming, that Sam had enjoyed Bobby's high handed tactics with him, would gloat that he had been proven right about the older man's loyalty to them…to him. Sam didn't disappoint.

Surprisingly, Sam found mirth turning up his lips at his brother's uncharacteristic embarrassment at being scolded by Bobby, by having the older man, in no uncertain terms, tell him that they were family, that Dean was his family. "I told you so, Dean. Like it or not, we're all in this with you," he gloated with affection, did it because Dean needed it, expected it, because, if roles were reversed, Dean wouldn't let the matter drop without tallying his winning point.

Even if the 'told you so' was expected, even anticipated, Dean shot his brother a glare all the same. "Don't gloat, Sammy. I already got manipulated by one little brother and chewed out by my surrogate father today. And your pal Ruby gave me a headache…"

"Dean, I can drive…" Sam readily offered, glad for the opening, because Dean looked like crap. And that had been true even before he went ten rounds with Ruby.

But Dean talked over Sam's suggestion. "Can we just pretend this is another hunt?" his eyes beseeching as they levelly met Sam's. Showed Sam he needed this normalcy, wanted it, even if it was the last con they would ever pull, even if it wasn't fooling anyone, not him or Sam. "You know, turn on some tunes and when you complain about them, I'll turn them up. I'll drive erratic and piss Bobby off. And we'll discuss how I'm going to kick your butt if you go behind my back with Ruby one more time."

Inhaling sharply at Dean's words, Sam needed Dean to know he hadn't meant his actions as a betrayal, that they were done out of _love_, desperation. "Dean, I summoned Ruby…"

"To find a way to save me..I know that, Sam," Dean finished without condemnation but with weariness and affection, eyes swiveling to Sam, wanting to connect with Sam, to make sure his brother knew he meant the words, meant the next ones too. "I just don't want you to, alright? Not like that. Besides, this is a family fight, remember? You, me, Alec and Bobby. I don't need anyone else except you guys. You got that?"

Sam nodded because it wasn't in him to oppose Dean, not now. To do so would hurt him in places that were already broken and bleeding. But it didn't mean he could shut out Ruby's words…. that she couldn't save Dean but _he_ could. If Ruby hadn't lied, if she was right, if he had the means to save Dean and didn't use them, was too scared…or valued his soul above Dean's…He couldn't lose his brother, couldn't lose Dean, knew in his heart that there wasn't anything he wouldn't risk…or forfeit to save Dean. And maybe Ruby hadn't been able to give him an instructional guide book, but he had come to know that, when push came to shove, when Dean was in danger, he would delve into himself, find some reserve strength, some power, be it evil or good, to protect Dean, to stop Dean from leaving him. Had unleashed his telekinesis power that same way when he had the vision of Max Miller _killing_ Dean.

Sam would do that again tonight if he had to, would use whatever he could, would do whatever he had to do to stop Dean from going to Hell. Would hone his love for his brother into the greatest weapon he had. For the first time, he was truly grateful for what his father had made them become, had bred them to be, for their family to be: survivors. And if Dean couldn't remember that, he would prove it to him tonight.

Seeing that Dean's eyes were flashing from the road and back to him, awaiting his promise, Sam answered, "I got it Dean," his voice hoarse and his eyes scared as they met Dean's bloodshot green gaze. "But you remember what I said too: There is no family without you, man. So if you decide to lie down and die, you're taking the rest of us with you."

"Sam…" Dean drawled in protest, nearly begged because he couldn't bare that weight, couldn't think along those terms. Losing his own life, he had come to terms with that. But Sam losing his, Alec dying, Bobby missing out on his retirement? That just couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. Would rather agree to be Lilith's number one soldier if she spared his family, real and adopted. Would make that bargain right then and there if he thought for one second that Lilith believed in mercy. But no, there were no more deals to be made, no escape hatches left to drop through. There was only this slim chance, this recklessly _stupid_ plan to kill Lilith, to break his deal, to allow him to stay with his family instead of leaving them.

When Dean didn't offer up a promise, a vow, instead said his name with such _need_…wanted something Sam refused to give him, tears welled in Sam's eyes and the terrible fear he had been struggling so hard to smother started to steal over him, made his voice quake. "Just promise me you'll fight as hard for your life as you always have for mine, Dean."

Pain flashed in Dean's eyes and it was the last thing Sam wanted, to hurt Dean more, to demand more of his brother after Dean had already given him everything he had, everything he had ever had, had forfeited everything he ever could have had. Sam forced his next words to carry levity, to bolster hope, did it for Dean. "Dude, just promise me that and you can put on your crappy music and we'll debate..I don't know, best super hero movies or something," made a smile appear on his lips though he knew it was a travesty of his real one. He wanted to give Dean what he had asked for, to let some asinine banter distract Dean from what lay ahead but he couldn't quiet any of his fears without some proof that Dean was going to fight for his life, wasn't just going to sacrifice himself all over again, at the last.

For a beat, Dean just looked at Sam, felt Sam's desperation fill the car, saw Sam's undeniable love for him reflected in his brother's eyes. And doubt flared in him, cast a shadow over what he had been telling himself for a year…had told himself even as his lips locked with the crossroad dealmaker: that he was doing this for Sam, that Sam would thank him for what he had done, that Sam, he didn't really need him, would be just fine on his own. And now, Sam had Alec. It should have made his leaving easier, knowing their family had grown by one…two if he counted Bobby and Bobby would be pissed if he didn't. Sam wasn't going to be alone, would have others to hunt with, to watch his back, to get him past this. It should have made all this better. But one look at Sam's face, seeing the tremble in his brother's chin, unable to deny the despair he could see gathering in Sam's eyes…Dean didn't know how things could be worse, how Sam could _hurt_ more than he did right then.

"I promise, Sam," he vowed, meant it, would not lie to Sam, would stop lying to himself. Sam needed him. **Him. **Not Alec, not Bobby but him. Saw now that Sam wasn't going to accept a replacement for him, would not even try to fill the spot he would be vacating, would just hurt…forever. And he couldn't bring that pain to Sam, not without a fight. When his promise evoked a real, if watery smile from Sam, he smoothly moved their topic category from anguish to more familiar ground. "And the best super hero movie's got to be Batman Beginnings…"

Though he felt like breaking down, laughing hysterically or bursting into sobs, his feelings a cross between relief and terror, Sam snorted instead. "Forget it, its Spiderman…" he countered, though in truth, he didn't have a favorite movie super hero. Had never really had the need for a movie version, not when he had a real one all his life. Not when the real one was sitting beside him right now. And heroes, they always won. It was just how the story ended. Had to end. Everyone knew that.

A moment later, Sam laughed as Dean lambasted his Spiderman choice with relish. Willingly, he dove into the conversation with enthusiasm because Dean wanted him to, because, for all the things Dean had given to him, his brother had asked very little from him. So some nonsense conversation, a distraction, some quality time with his little brother? Sam could do that for Dean. Would do that for Dean and so much more. More than Dean could ever fathom…or would ever condone.

But little brothers, they had roles to play, too. And keeping their big brothers with them? That was one of them. In fact, it topped the list. Certainly topped Sam's list and Sam would stake his life…was staking Dean's life on the belief that Alec felt the same way. That Alec would be there, would do whatever he could, whatever he had to do to see that neither of them lost their big brother. '_Alec, I can't lose him. We can't lose him,_' he silently implored of his little brother, needed Alec there, needed to know that Alec would have their backs, that he wasn't the only little brother in this battle. That Dean's life, Dean's soul didn't rest in his hands alone. That Dean would be saved, because if the worst happened…if he lost Dean, Sam knew in the darkest depths of his soul that there would be nothing that would save him. He would become as deadly, as _evil_ as his father had once predicted he would be.

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Pocket watch crushed in his grip, Bobby helplessly watched the house across the street, prayed as hard as he knew how that two tall dark haired men that he loved like sons would come walking out the door. But the tick tock of his watch mocked his appeal as midnight drew mercilessly near. "Come on boys," he nearly begged before his breath caught as he saw someone try and slip through the ring of Lilith's soldiers. But this late comer, he wasn't one of Lilith's, wasn't getting a free pass through their ranks, was being forced to fight his way forward.

Bobby marveled at the uninvited guest's speed and agility as he punched and kicked his way through the possessed people. But it was his backwards leap which landed him on the holy water drenched front lawn that convinced Bobby of his identity: Dean's clone, Alec. As he watched, Alec was practically a blur, he entered the house so rapidly. "Alright, kid, prove to me that you're worth Dean and Sam's loyalty," he lowly growled, wanting someone, anyone, to save Dean, to save Sam. Because, those boys, they were a package deal, had been from the start and anyone who couldn't see that…Well they were blind. And he was old but his sight, his insight, was 20/20 when it came to his family.

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TBC

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I know, it's a cruel place to stop but I'm planning on posting the next chapter Tuesday or Wednesday. After that, my updates may be a little slow in coming again but I hope not.

Thanks for reading and for all your kind words! You guys totally spoil me…but I'm OK with that.

Have a wonderful evening!

Cheryl W.


	17. Chapter 17

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Spoilers for No Rest for the Wicked. Sorry I didn't post the day I said I would, I just wasn't quite happy with the chapter.

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Chapter 17

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Dean's scream of pain, it was the first thing that registered with Alec as he burst through the door. The second was Sam's raw pleadings: "No! Stop! Stop it!" After that, everything faded to the background except saving Dean, saving his family. He didn't scope out his surroundings, didn't predict his enemy's location or defensive tactics, didn't follow even one of Manticore's protocols. Instead, he just let his heart lead him, trusted his love to provide him with the strength, the ability he needed to see this through, to save his brothers, to save himself.

Running into the room, he took in the scene before him in an instant: a blond woman standing just inside the door, Sam pinned to the wall and Dean…Dean on the floor, screaming in pain, writhing against an invisible attack, blood soaking his shirt. And the knife, Ruby's knife, the knife that could kill Lilith, the knife Dean had asked Alec to use on him if things went badly was lying, seemingly discarded, on the floor.

Alec didn't go for the blond woman he knew instinctively was Lilith, never truly contemplated touching the knife, dove forward instead to protect what he cared about most: his brother. Though the Hell Hound wasn't visible, it was solid enough when he slammed into it. Found he could wrap his hands around the beast's muscled, stocky body as they both tumbled onto the hard wood floor. And he hung onto the invisible beast for dear life, for Dean's life, didn't loosen his grip when the hound's claws tore into his skin as easily as they had Dean's. His own pain was inconsequential compared to Dean's pain, to his brother's choked cry of pain, gasp for breath.

Sam didn't waste the distraction Alec had provided. Momentarily released from Lilith's hold, he rolled forward, grabbed the knife mid motion, came off the floor and buried the weapon's blade into Lilith's neck. "No one's going to Hell today…not Dean!" he lowly hissed before he ruthlessly turned the knife in her flesh. "Not even you." With satisfaction, he watched agony spread over what was once Ruby's face before red light arched from the body, signifying Lilith's death throes. Viciously removing the knife, Sam numbly saw Lilith drop to the ground like a long dead corpse, leaving quiet in her wake.

With the hell hound recalled, Alec was suddenly holding onto nothing but air. Instantly he rolled to face Dean, heard Sam's choked cry of "Dean!" as Sam crashed to his knees beside his brother.

Frantically Sam pressed his hands against Dean's chest, desperately tried to stop the flow of thick red blood pouring from his brother's ravaged flesh. His eyes locked with Dean's, raged against the way his brother's eyes were dulled with pain, were leaking life as surely as his body was leaking blood. "Dean," he begged, needed his brother to hear him, to not go.

Through his agony, Dean had registered a red light from the corner of his eye, recognized it for what it was: Lilith's departing gesture. And when the hell hound's snarling no longer rent through the air, his ears rang with the quiet. But he hadn't been able to claim any victory, not until he knew Sam was Ok. Then, as if in answer to his prayers, Sam's face had appeared in his dimming line of vision and he felt his brother's hands come to rest on his chest. But Sam's touch wasn't gentle, wasn't there to sooth him, was there to save him, by merciless force, it seemed. As Sam's ministrations sent a shock wave of heightened agony through him, he cried out but the pressure in his lungs muffled his scream, made it emerge as a pathetic whimper.

Rationally knowing that he had to hurt Dean to save him didn't ease the guilt in Sam, didn't make his heart hurt any less at Dean's weak but earthshattering cry of pain. Because Dean, he did stoic better than anyone, endured pain, agony with grimaces and curses but never cries, never choked back screams. And the look in his brother's eyes, the way the light was fading in them, it scared him worst than anything Hell could threaten. "Just hang on, Dean. Lilith's dead, the Hell Hound is gone, your deal's broken."

Dean wanted to smile, to tell Sammy 'good job', to look at Alec, who he knew was nearby though out of his limited line of sight. Needed to tell both of his brothers how proud he was of them but his body was proving weaker than his will. Blindly he raised his hand, inched it across his blood covered chest to Sam's arms, to wrap around his brother's wrist as Sam tried to keep him alive, thought he still needed to save him. Sam needed to know that he had already saved him…even if he died.

Sam's breath caught as Dean weakly but intently gripped his wrist, as he saw the love in Dean's eyes…and the goodbye. "No," he sobbed, pressing harder on his brother's bleeding chest, needing to stop this, to undo this. "You're not dying on me, Dean! You're not. You're not leaving me. We didn't beat Lilith so you could _quit_!" the last word coming out as a broken hearted plea.

Coming to kneel by Dean's head, Alec hurriedly removed his jacket, winced slightly at the wounds to his own chest and arms but didn't let it slow him down. Shoving the jacket at Sam, he ordered, "Use this to stop the blood flow," releasing the jacket even before Sam moved, made a grab for it. Surging to his feet, he ran from the room, located the first floor bathroom and grabbed a handful of towels. Returning to the room at a run, it was a shock to see the scene in the new prospective. To see Dean on the ground, so still, blood soaking the left leg of his jeans. Dean's shoulder, chest.. ravaged, blood soaking into the tattered material of Dean's jacket, two shirts which had offered no protection against the savagery of the attack, the strength and evil of the canine courier from hell.

And then there was Sam.

Dean's true brother knelt at Dean's side, tears sliding down his face as freely as the blood ran from Dean's wounds. With his hands pressing on his brother's chest, Sam was determined to stop the blood flow, even as his shoulders bent forward, as his head was bowed over his brother in a gesture of fear, of misery, and of utter devotion. There was nothing else in Sam's world but Dean. And if Dean left him….

Railing against losing his brother, either of them, Alec crossed to Dean's right side and dropped to his knees beside Sam. Knowing that Sam would not remove his pressure point on Dean's chest, would not forfeit his connection with Dean, could not, not even for a moment, Alec pressed some towels between Sam's hands. Almost instantly Sam's hands slid to the new makeshift bandages even though his eyes didn't leave Dean's.

In contrast, Alec purposefully didn't look at Dean's face, couldn't let himself think that this was _his brother's_ life he was trying to save. Had to remain detached, had to perform his tasks efficiently, could not fail, not in this, not like he had failed in so many other things, had failed so many other people.

So Alec concentrated on rendering the towels into strips easily with his strong grip. Task complete, he gently moved his hands under Dean's right shoulder, bit his lip as his hand slid in the blood, mercilessly snagged in the deep cuts in the man's flesh, in his brother's flesh. Wrestling to keep his emotions locked down, he focused on his medic training. Positioning a strand of towel under the wound, he intended to tie if off in the front of Dean's shoulder only to realize the knot, it would intersect with more of Dean's wounds. Cursing himself, he followed through, tied a knot in the towel, winced when Dean groaned in agony but didn't look at Dean's face, doubted he would have the strength to continue if he knew the level of pain he was causing his sibling.

With hands not as steady as they should be, Alec pressed another towel to the front of Dean's shoulder, felt sick when the towel seemed to instantly turn from white to red as his brother's blood soaked through the porous fabric. With an outward ruthlessness, he slid his hands under his brother's shoulder again, tried to shut out Dean's moan as he secured the second makeshift bandage with a tight knot.

Alec choked out an "I'm sorry, Dean," before he finally gathered the courage to look at his brother. Suddenly, his world shifted out of focus. Dean's bone white profile was in sharp contrast to the blood splattered on his face. The wave of vulnerability, weakness, frailty emanating from Dean, it was in abject contradiction to the strength, the bravery, the life Alec had always associated with his big brother. Seeing Dean squeezing his eyes shut against the unbearable pain, he knew that was his fault, that he was increasing Dean's pain when all he wanted to do was to ease it, to stop it. He would give anything to have the power to make Dean's pain go away.

Gritting his teeth, Alec pushed himself to his feet, moved to Dean's leg. Felt angry and sick at the damage he could see through the torn jeans, debated setting up a tourniquet but didn't bother, knew the blood flow…it was slowing, didn't want to think why that was, what it meant. Sliding his hands under Dean's leg, he coiled the strip of towel around the wound, tied it off with a strong pull. He closed his eyes at Dean's weak grunt of pain but only let himself wallow in despair for a moment, then he was at Dean's left side, was reaching for his brother, was determined to keep Dean with him, by pure force if necessary.

Pressing the shaking fingers of his right hand against Dean's neck even as his left hand rested on Dean's shoulder, Alec found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from Dean's face now that he had allowed himself that bittersweet privilege. Because seeing Dean's face, it was a pleasure as much as it was a torment. He felt his own chest shred when Dean used some of his precious, fleeting energy to roll his head toward him, when he saw the look in his brother's eyes, the look that Sam had seen and had nearly come undone under its despair. "It's not that bad," Alec lied, fabricated a smile though he knew it was more a prelude to a sob, felt his lips tremble on the precipice.

A fledging ghost of a smile turned up Dean's lips. Crap, that was exactly what he had said to Sam in that ghost town …right before Sam died in his arms. Like he had with Sam only minutes before, he reached out for Alec. Instantly, Alec caught his hand in his and squeezed it tight. Closing his eyes, he tried to swallow, to gather enough air, enough strength to talk, to tell his brothers what they needed to hear and to tell them goodbye. A blood slicked hand came to tenderly rest on the right side of his face.

"Hey, don't go anywhere, Dean. Don't go anywhere without me, Dean," Sam's voice as broken as Dean had ever heard it, as close to sobbing as Dean had ever witnessed, even after Jessica's death..their father's. He couldn't leave Sam broken, he couldn't. Rolling his head forward again, he opened his eyes, saw that Sam was crying, hard, felt his brother's tears hit him like raindrops…bittersweet raindrops. Tightening his grip on Sam's wrist, on Alec's hand, he spoke through his agony, "Proud of you…both. Saved me," because he was, they had. Had saved him from a fate worst than death, from Hell.

As the last of his defenses faltered, Sam bowed his head closer to Dean's and filled the air with a heart rending sob. Dean was bloody, broken, _dying _and he was _proud of him_, was thanking him and Alec for _saving_ him. "Don't say that. Just…just don't talk, Dean. Save your strength. We'll get you to a hospital…" he pleaded, stammered, promised even as he wondered if it wasn't already too late for medical miracles, distraught at the possibility that there was no way to replenish the blood that his brother had lost, the blood that he himself was covered in: hands, jeans, shirt…soul.

"It's Ok, Sam..my," Dean forced from his constricted throat, refusing to go until he was certain Sam wouldn't follow him, that Sam could live without him. "Deal's ..broken. You did…good."

Alec gripped Dean's hand harder in his own hand even as he looked away, couldn't bear to watch Dean give up, to see the devastation on Sam's face, to witness his brother's death after everything they had been through, how hard he had fought to be there. But he couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his mouth, "Good?!" he bitterly scoffed, shaking his head, not caring that the gesture sent his tears flying, not looking to Dean, to Sam. "You call this _good_?!" his voice rising as his emotions teetered on the brink of destruction. "Screw you, Dean!" he growled, leaning forward, getting into Dean's line of sight. "You don't get to just pat us on the head and then go, leave us behind trying to pick up the pieces. Cause Sam and I, we can't put things together, can't make things right without you, Dean!"

Sam readily joined Alec's campaign, latched onto the anger, the down right refusal to accept this outcome. "You told me to keep on fighting. Well take your own advice, Dean! Dad taught you to fight, told you to take care of your family. You have to follow Dad's orders. You have to take care of your little brother, both of them. It's your job. I'm your responsibility, Dean. Just like Alec is," Sam threw out, was using Dean's own loyalty against him, Dean's own code of honor, of family, Dean's love for him. It was a low handed tactic…and he didn't care. Not if it got him what he wanted. Knew, ironically, that it was that code, that loyalty, that love, that had driven Dean into making the crossroad's deal exactly a year ago, that what had cursed Dean's soul might be the only thing to save Dean's life.

"You're not…" Dean wheezed, fighting for breathing, for some defense, for some way to right his wrongs.

"Going to let you die in peace?" Sam supplied firmly, with a bittersweet smile of determination, remembered saying that to Dean after his heart attack, when Dean seemed so willing to give up, to lie down and die, to leave him. "No, we're a package deal, Sid and Nancy, whatever. So suck it up. You've had worse," he goaded, needed to see a spark of life in Dean's eyes, of fight.

"Liar," Dean protested weakly amid a groan of pain. He knew what Sam was trying to do, what he had tried to do with Sam in that ghost town. Bind them together, to not let Sam go, not let Sam believe he was dying, not give Sam the _option _to leave him_._

"Besides, it would totally ruin our family reputation if it got out that you were taken down by a _dog_," Alec smart alecked, his smirk feeble as he pretended that he cared about anything but keeping his brother alive.

"Hell..hound," Dean clarified breathlessly as if it mattered. What mattered more was the knowledge that Alec had just claimed them family, his family.

"Whatever," Alec returned with a shrug. "Either way, you're not dying on us so stop the chick flick goodbye speech," he stated as if the idea of Dean dying was settled. It wasn't happening and he didn't care what Dean thought about it.

"Like I said before, I'm not letting you go, Dean. I can't let you go anymore than you could let me go," Sam stated, was reassured by the tenacious, small glimmer of life in Dean's eyes that hadn't vanished, was faded but wasn't gone. He didn't even mind that Dean's expression said 'you're such a girl Sam'. Instead he reveled in the taunt, welcomed anything Dean threw at him as long as he was around to do it. Once again he had faith that Dean was too much of a big brother to let him down, to let either of his little brothers down.

"I say we take this reunion somewhere else. Apparently white picket fence suburbia doesn't suit any of us," Alec counseled mockingly, trying to conceal the urgency he felt to get somewhere they could treat Dean. To somewhere they could truly stop his blood loss, could do more than use words to keep him alive. It was harder to let Dean's hand go than it had been to walk out of Rachel's room. Had been easier to let Rachel in the coma state that his actions had resigned her to than to break the connection to his brother, to a brother who wasn't going anywhere. That he refused to let go anywhere.

Freed of Dean's grip, robbed of that connection, Alec intended to slip his arms under Dean, to pull his wounded brother into his arms. But Sam's hand fisted in his shirt, caused him to meet the older man's eyes as they clashed with his. He could easily see the plea in Sam's eyes: '_Don't take him away from me. It's my duty to protect him. He's my brother, my responsibility. I need to be allowed to do this.'_

Stilling, Alec knew his strength far outweighed Sam's, that he wouldn't jostle Dean as much as Sam would, though it would be through no fault of Sam's. But he didn't voice those advantages, didn't offer up any protests. Instead, he leaned away, wrapped his hand around Dean's wrist and gently settled his brother's arm onto his blood drenched chest and then withdrew his touch. Knew in his heart that, with Dean barely clinging to life, it wasn't about strength, it was about connections, about love. And Dean's bond with Sam, it was stronger than Alec's, had weathered more than Alec could bear to contemplate. What Dean needed, what would keep Dean anchored to this world was Sam, knowing that Sam was there. Close. Wasn't going anywhere..not without him.

As Alec gently pulled his touch from Dean, placed Dean's hand on his chest, Sam felt a new set of emotions choke him: relief, gratitude, and love for Alec. Nodding, he looked down at Dean, at his brother's pain lined features, at his expressive eyes. "I'ld tell you this won't hurt but…" he swallowed down the swell in his throat, smiled a watery, bitter smile.

Voice rough with pain, Dean ordered, "Do it, Sam," wanting to take the burden, the guilt from Sam's eyes. But his words were barely strong enough to reach Sam, told Sam in no uncertain terms just how weak his big brother was, what a battle it was to not surrender, to not concede the war and seek some peace.

It took Sam only a moment to realize Dean's motivation, that it was the same old one it had been his whole life: take care of Sammy. Cursing and yet adoring his brother for his tenacity, Sam slid his hands under Dean's shoulder and behind his knees. Dean's choked back groan of pain at the movement reverberated through Sam, made him release a moan of despair to counter Dean's and close his eyes. Then, with resolve born out of love and devotion, he fixed his eyes on Dean's steady gaze that offered him strength, even through his own torment, and picked Dean off the hard wood floor. Dean's sharp cry of pain tore through his soul, made him nearly sob. And then Dean fell silent, his eyes sliding shut as he went limp in his arms, passed out.

Trying to make himself believe that it was for the best that Dean was no longer awake to endure the agony…or offer him strength he didn't have to spare, even the strength of spirit, Sam pulled Dean closer to his chest and climbed to his feet. Shifting his burden in his arms until he held Dean more securely, he found he could feel his brother's heartbeat against his arm, was assured that Dean wasn't gone, was simply unconscious. He barely registered Alec's presence, his focus wholly on his brother's face, on the life, the fragile life he held in his hands.

Lithely coming to his feet, Alec stepped toward his brothers. Dean's head rested on Sam's arm at a painful angle and he couldn't help slipping his hand under Dean's head, shifting his brother's lax head gently until it came to rest upon Sam's chest. His eyes flickered to Sam's, wondered if the other man would rebuke him for the time that the gesture wasted. But Sam's red rimmed eyes held only gratitude and fear. Pulling his touch from Dean, he stepped toward the door, took point, vowed to send any of Lilith's minions to Hell if they stood in his way of getting his brothers to safety. Sensing movement in the house, he lowly hissed to Sam over his shoulder, "Someone's coming," a moment before that someone crossed over the room's threshold. Alec's hand wrapped around the intruder's throat and he propelled the man backward, slamming him roughly against the door.

"No! He's a friend! It's Bobby!" Sam exclaimed, terrified that tragedy wouldn't be averted, not with Alec's super human strength and raw emotions.

But Alec had trained himself to restrain his strength, to ensure he never ever hurt the humans he was honored enough to have in his life. So as he released his grip, there was only a red imprint of his hand as a souvenir of his attack on the man's undamaged throat. "Ah..sorry," he apologized, remembered the way his brothers had fondly spoken about their "uncle" Bobby. And he valued anyone that showed Sam and Dean kindness, that was willing to fight along side his brothers.

Knowing Dean had a clone and standing there looking at said clone, it wasn't as easy to accept as Bobby had thought it would be. But his disquiet was trampled under his fear when he looked over the clone's shoulder, saw Sam…saw _Dean_. Shouldering hurriedly past Alec, Bobby crossed to the brothers' side, his horrified look swiveling from Dean's bloody, pale, unmoving form cradled in Sam's arms, to Sam himself. He opened his mouth but couldn't form words, couldn't voice his worst fear.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sam said, voice on the razor sharp edge of hysteria and strength. Torn between being the little brother and the protector, between loss and hope.

For a moment, Bobby couldn't speak, slid his hand up to grip Dean's forearm before he saw the need in Sam's eyes. Knew that he had to be strong, for both of them. "Come on, the rest of Lilith's group high tailed it out of here. I'll bring the car around front," he said before he ran from the room, determined to do whatever he could, wished he had done more before now, had spared Dean the wounds that were freely bleeding, had prevented that haunted look in Sam's eyes.

Alec took the lead among the Winchesters, was cautious even after Bobby's words and fearless departure because he couldn't let one more thing hurt Dean, hurt Sam. Had failed badly enough in one day.

Holding Dean, wishing Dean didn't feel so lifeless in his arms, Sam began to follow Alec, didn't spare a thought, a glance for Ruby/Lilith. There was no reveling in victory, in the defeat of their foe, not when the cost had come too high, when it still threatened to cost him what he loved most. Careful to not jostle Dean too badly, to not catch his brother's long legs on the doorway, he left the room behind, turned his back on the hardwood floor darkly stained with his brother's blood.

As Alec and Sam walked from the house, they saw bodies lying on the grass, on the street, just outside the holy water barrier. But neither of them could spare any thoughts to wonder if all the lives were lost or simply unconscious. Had only the strength, the heart to see to their own wounded.

By the time Sam reached the street, Bobby was pulling the Impala to a stop. Leaving the engine running, Bobby jumped from the driver's side, was coming around to open the back door. But Alec beat him to it before be blurred around to open the back door on the driver's side as well.

Bearing his brother in his arms, Sam leaned into the back of the car. He saw that Alec had crawled in from the other side, was reaching for Dean. With only a pang of regret, Sam released Dean into Alec's hold. When Alec pulled Dean forward, he found it both a blessing and a curse that Dean gave no reaction to the motion. Gently he bent Dean's legs to get his brother's tall frame into the car but he couldn't release his grip around his brother's ankle, couldn't let go.

Drawing Dean against him, Alec wrapped his hands around his brother's wounded chest, felt the blood stained towels, was alarmed that they turning cold, just like Dean was. "Sam, sit with him," he ordered, though he knew he had no need to demand it. It was what Sam wanted, needed. To be there with his brother, to hold his brother, to keep their connection coursing through them, through Dean.

Hurriedly coming around the car, Sam slid into the back seat, took Alec's place with his brother, pulled Dean against his chest until his brother's head rested on his collar bone, until he could wrap his arms around his brother, ensure Dean knew he was there, that he wasn't letting go. Alec shut the door behind him. Then, before it seemed possible, the transgenic was bending down in the opposite door. A myriad of emotions were telegraphed on the too familiar, too similar features: imploring, fear, determination.

"We can't take him to a hospital, Sam," Alec quietly stated, tried hard to hide his desperation. He needed to get through to Sam, for the older man to see the logic of what he was going to propose, to trust him. '_Trust me_?' Alec bitterly repeated in his head. He had given Sam no reason to trust him, not if the way Dean lay limp and bloody, barely alive in his arms was an indication of just how much he could be counted upon.

Having come to Alec's side, Bobby thundered, "What? Why not?!", his look sliding from the clone to Sam, incredulous at even the notion of simply treating Dean with their fair to middling doctoring. As his gaze darted between the two men, he avoided looking at Dean, didn't want to see the devastating wounds on the young man, didn't want to see the blood that had stained the towels red, was still coating Sam's shaking hands, dripping on the Impala's interior, floorboards. No, he hadn't the strength to face the possibility that he could still lose the boy, had not the heart to calculate the odds. He already knew the odds were against them, had known that from the start. But this _hope_…if it proved false?! He knew it would be worse than if he had walked into that house and Dean was already gone. Because they had a _chance_…and if they lost it, if they failed Dean now…it would make Dean's passing all the more painful, would carry another load of guilt in its midst, would decimate Sam: absolutely and abruptly.

Not replying or sparing a look to the older hunter, Alec steadily kept his eyes on Sam, on the only person who had the right to make the decision for Dean. "A hospital..they can't save him, Sam." His heart clenched as Sam swallowed hard, instinctively drew Dean tighter against his chest, railed against the defeat he thought Alec was offered when all he wanted was to make Sam see that they had limited options and no time to debate. But they had options, he knew it, had to believe it, apparently for Sam and for himself. "But we can save him," letting conviction carry in his words, in his features, in the look he sent to Sam.

"Dean isn't one of your Manticore buddies," Bobby lowly bit out. "He can't heal himself, can't sustain this level of injuries and survive without extensive medial help."

"I know that," Alec growled, finally turning to Bobby, angered that the man was misinterpreting his intensions, distorting them, accusing him of things that would never be true. He could never confuse Dean with one of Manticore's soldiers, would always remember that his brother was more frail than he was…in body. But NOT in spirit, not in his heart. That was Dean's strength and was what was keeping him breathing, was giving them a shot to save him. But only if they acted fast, if they didn't waste any more time debating as if they had other options, as if Dean had time …blood he could afford to lose.

"I know where the nearest hospital is," Bobby announced, beginning to walk away, to head to the driver's side but Alec's strong grip on his arm stopped him. Shooting a glare at the clone, he saw Alec's intent focus was totally on Sam.

Alec's heart was thudding in his chest as he looked to Sam, implored Sam to know him well enough to know he wouldn't do anything to hurt Dean, to jeopardize Dean's life: ever. "If we take Dean to a hospital all the good they will do is call time of death. He's lost too much blood, Sam. You know that. I can give him a blood transfusion. The nanobots in my blood, they can repair damaged cells, regenerate healthy cells," he outlined, prayed that Sam could see that it was their most viable solution, could work…had to work.

"We don't know how or if any of that will work on him! This is Dean's life we're talking about!" Bobby heatedly protested, wasn't willing to gamble Dean's life on a science fiction tale. Swiveling his look to Sam, he wanted Sam to see reason but Sam's eyes were fixed on Alec even as his arms coiled even more possessively around Dean's bloody torso.

"Sam, please. Trust me," Alec begged, could see the indecision in Sam's eyes, but he didn't hold it against Sam. This was his brother's life that hung in the balance, that Sam would be risking by trusting him, trusting what he was, what ran through his blood more prominently than Dean's DNA. "I would rather die myself than hurt Dean, you have to believe that."

Swallowing, Sam made his decision, eyes never leaving Alec's. "Bobby we'll be at the motel. Get any medical supplies Alec needs." When he sensed their old family friend's hesitation, his eyes shifted to Bobby and he implored, "Please Bobby!"

Unable to deny the need in Sam, Bobby complied with a nod of his head, turned to Alec and asked him what supplies he needed. Wasn't willing to waste more of Dean's precious time arguing with anyone. It was Sam's decision, was always going to be Sam's decision when it came to Dean's life and he wouldn't contest that, had no right to.

Closing the back door, Alec turned to Bobby, began rattling off his list of supplies as he headed toward the driver's door. Once the clone had finished, Bobby gave Sam and Dean one final look through the now closed door, could see the back of Sam's head as he bent over Dean, rested his chin on Dean's head, spoke lowly words that didn't carry outside the car's interior and weren't for him anyway. Cursing himself for his weakness, for his need to look at the young men he cared too much about for his own good one last time, he took off at a run, aiming for the spot where he had left his own car.

A few minutes later, as Bobby climbed behind the wheel, he knew he was willing to rob a hospital at gun point if he had to for the supplies he needed. Understood the plan was insane…knew just as well that it could work. Could work not because it was supposed to but because, if he had learned one thing about the Winchesters, it was to never underestimate them: their strengths, their crazy weed ideas and never ever their love for each other.

Alec sent the Impala surging forward, fishtailing out of the cul-de-sac. Told himself he couldn't worry about tossing his passengers around, not when time was still slipping through the hour glass, was still running out on them, even if Dean was putting up the fight of his life to stay with them. He held out until he hit the small suburbia's main stretch of road, until his attention could be spared and then he allowed his eyes to stray from the road ahead to the rearview mirror. The scene he saw was both worse and better than he was braced for: the horrifying sight of Dean, bloody, still, so pale his skin seemed almost lucid, of the tender scene of Sam holding his brother in his arms, chin resting against Dean's forehead as his brother's head angled toward his throat. And then, above the Impala's rumbling engine, he heard Sam's soft entreaty of words: for Dean not to die, to stay with him, to keep on fighting.

Instead of the heartbreaking scene, of Sam's words generating an entreaty of his own, it caused Alec to offer up curses and promises of unholy retribution. '_Manticore, you brilliant, heartless butchers, you better not fail me this time. If my blood doesn't work, doesn't save Dean, every last one of you sadists will wish you had burned with Manticore._'

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TBC

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Well, now its official…my little AU has gone really native. Hope some of you will continue to stick with the story. As I've stated before, I wasn't intending to touch on the Season 3 finale, was just going to have Alec and the brothers part ways, but you guys gave me such encouragement to continue that I started reshaping the storyline. And since I got to decide Dean's fate…well, as you can see, I'm just a big ole softie…(Please don't blame me for the dire straits Dean's health is in..that was all Kripke..but of course I'm only too glad to reap the benefits because I'm twisted.). I did want to stay as close to the actual finale as I could, didn't want Alec to intrude on what was so exclusively Sam and Dean territory…well until Alec came in to help save the day.

Thanks for the awesome reviews for last chapter and thanks to everyone for letting me take you on this little detour in the Winchester family history.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	18. Chapter 18

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Spoilers for No Rest for the Wicked. Ok, personally I'm not sure how this chapter turned out. Bear in mind that I got my medical knowledge off the internet and a dash from personal experience, that I've been in a terribly teary eyed mood lately and that I've been stumped on this chapter for …oh more than two months. Guess I'm just hoping there is some redeeming value in my ramblings below. Oh and yeah…angst heading your way.

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Chapter 18

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It was a mockery, the town being named New Harmony. Alec cursed Lilith for her twisted joke as he sent the Impala rocketing through the dark night, speeding over the deserted blacktop of a nameless road. But the joke, it was at her expense. She had come out of the battle as the final loser. '_Not us, it won't be us_,' he insisted, demanded, pleaded, his teeth clenched together, unable and unwilling to look in the rearview mirror again to try and gauge Dean's condition…or Sam's emotional fortifications. Couldn't bear to judge the scale of destruction of either anymore than he could let his own emotions slip free of their reigns. He was a soldier, was a Winchester, was a brother and he had a job to do. Nothing could get in the way of that. Nothing.

Tightening his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, he put his mind to the task of formulating the steps he would take to save Dean's life. Ran through the list of supplies he had asked Bobby to get, sought to catalogue which of his brother's wounds to focus on first. Began to calculate how much blood he should transfuse to Dean…but that was a pitfall. It wasn't in him to coldly estimate the amount of blood Dean had lost, that had stained the hardwood floor of that house, that soaked through Dean's clothing and Sam's and the thick, too absorbent towels.

Sam's quiet, choked directions to turn at the next road to the right were a relief, gave him a reprieve he knew he wouldn't have for long. Because, it truly was up to him to know how much blood Dean had lost…how much he needed to get back. It was his responsibility to clinically assess Dean's wounds and make the best medical decisions from that knowledge. Letting his guilt, his regret, his fear dull his proficiency…it could cost Dean his life. '_It's just your luck, 494. You find you have brothers, you lower your guard, let them convince you that you don't have to always be the perfect soldier, and now being the perfect, cold blooded field medic soldier is the only thing that may save your brother. And you're not sure you can be that anymore, with Dean threatening to die on you, with Sam looking over your shoulder, counting on you to save his brother. Great freakin' time for you to come to grips with your softer side.'_

With both relief and dread, he saw the motel come into sight, knew that he had to slip on his field medic persona. But even as he swung the Impala into the parking lot and brought the car to a sliding halt outside the motel room he knew that the brother part of him wouldn't bow to necessity, was too much a part of him. Flying from the car, he didn't bother with the pleasantries, simply kicked in the room door, left it open as he blurred back to the Impala, to his brothers.

When he opened the driver's side back door, his breath caught painfully in his chest, not at the damage evident on Dean but at Sam's red-rimmed eyes. At the pain, the despair pouring off of Sam, at the pleading in his brother's look for him to make all this better.

Too choked to make reassurances, Alec slid inside the car, intending to hold onto Dean so Sam could climb out of the car. But as he gripped Dean's shoulders, he felt Sam tighten his hold on his brother instead of loosening it. Swallowing hard, he raised his head, met Sam's tortured gaze and couldn't blame Sam for the doubt, the misgivings he leveled at him. When had he ever proven himself worthy of the trust he was demanding from Sam…from Dean?! It didn't help at all to know that, in the pit of his stomach, he knew, whether the trust was warranted or not, he was their best chance to save Dean, or rather _his blood_ was. "Sam, if there was another way…if there was someone else that could help Dean instead of me…" he stammered, felt his own eyes sting, his chin tremble. What he wouldn't give for even Falon to be there, to tell him that what he was proposing was for the best, wasn't going to simply kill Dean slowly, painfully instead of peacefully letting him go. '_But I can't let him go…and neither can Sam.'_

Alec's broken admission reached Sam through his own pain, made him remember that he was a big brother now, had a role to play like Dean had always had. Forcing stiff fingers and tense muscles to loosen their possessive grip on Dean's slack body, he met Alec's pained gaze. "Dean wouldn't want anyone else to help him but you, Alec. And neither do I," he stated, gently pushing Dean forward into Alec's hold. He left his hands resting on his brother's back a moment even after Alec wrapped Dean into his arms, pulled his brother against his chest.

Steeling himself, Sam drew in a breath and then backed out of the car onto his feet, his eyes never leaving either of his brothers. "Carry him in Alec, I'll bring in the first aid kit," he ordered, though the words were quiet, forced. It was hard, giving Dean into someone else's care, even Alec's, especially when Dean was so vulnerable, so fragile, barely holding onto life. But Sam knew he had to prove to Alec that he did trust him, had to bolster Alec's faith before Alec could find the strength in himself to do what had to be done to save Dean.

It didn't mean Sam didn't stumble when he stepped back from the car, that he didn't feel like part of him was missing when he headed to the trunk, lost sight of Dean. That he didn't feel like falling onto his knees and crying and praying and begging for mercy even as his trembling hands opened the trunk, bypassed the useless weapons to grip the first aid kit. Only the knowledge that Dean was still alive kept him together, that Dean was fighting, that Dean expected him to keep fighting too.

Unprepared for Sam's words, for Sam to relinquish Dean into his care already, Alec choked on his next breath, pulled Dean tighter into his grip, rested his chin on Dean's shoulder. '_God please don't let me fail Dean…or Sam. For once in my life, let me do the right thing_.' Slipping his one arm under Dean's legs, he pulled his brother tightly into his hold and slid back out of the car, shifted Dean's weight in his arms until Dean's head lulled against his shoulder before he headed to the open motel door.

Silently following in Alec's wake, hands wanting to reach out, to touch Dean, Sam skirted by his brothers to enter the room first, flung the first aid kit on the table and quickly stripped the bed farthest from the door of its covers. As Alec levered Dean gently onto the bed, Sam couldn't prevent his hand from bracing Dean's head, from carefully settling his brother's head onto the pillow, of letting his fingers skim over Dean's hair. He bit his lip at Dean's unresponsiveness, at the blood splattered on his brother's face, on his clothing and the towels soaked with dark blood, Dean's blood.

Alec was as shaken as Sam at Dean's condition. When he was holding his brother in his arms, he had felt Dean's racing heart, had sensed no muscle responses in his brother's body. For a moment, he stood immobile, hands fisted before he got himself under control, just like Manticore had taught him to. Secure your perimeter, assess the damage, scout for supplies, stay alive. '_Keep my family alive,_' he tacked on, the last giving him the calmness, the determination that the other Manticore mandates did not, could not.

When Alec raised his eyes to Sam, who was looking down at his brother with such need, such love, it nearly broke Alec's new resolve, caused his planned gruff order to come out as a quietly spoken request. "Sam, make sure we don't get any unwanted guests. Then I need towels, blankets, pillows and more light, even a flashlight would help." When Sam nodded numbly, his eyes not moving from Dean's face, Alec was afraid he would have to force the older man into motion. But then Sam snapped out of it, had had too much training in survival, too much experience in fighting to save the people he loved to not click into action, to let a little thing like his brother dying slow down his reflexes.

Breaking out of his stupor, Sam ran for the Impala, for a flashlight and the salt and weapons he had left behind. Cursed himself for not thinking of setting up a protective barrier, chagrined that Alec had to tell him to do it. Boy, Dean would never let him live that down. '_Hear that Dean, you have to stick around to tease me, man. I'll even go to the circus and sit in the friggin' clown car if you'll just not leave me._' Arms full he ran back to the room, liberally laid down salt along the doorways and windows even as he checked the shotgun and reached to the back of his pants where Rudy's knife lay reassuringly tucked against his skin. Room secure, brothers as safe as he could make them, he stalked into the bathroom, grabbed towels and snatched pillows and blankets from the other bed and off the floor before piling them on the empty bed. Then he ran out of the room, kicked in the next motel room door and quickly scavenged for lights and towels and blankets, all the while trying to shut out the sight of Dean, bloody, still, frail, imprinted forever in his head even as he desperately clung to it, needed that proof that Dean was still with him, was broken but wasn't defeated. "You can't go, Dean. You just can't," he choked out as he stripped another bed of its covers and bundled them in his grip.

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It was wrong in a thousand ways, how fragile Dean looked. That Dean didn't make one protest, didn't move one muscle of his own accord as Alec removed the blood soaked towels and his shirts and jeans, left him lying on the bed in his boxers, his body smeared, coated in blood. But it was more than the blood, than Dean's unresponsiveness that mocked Alec's hope. That told him just how near to death his big brother was. It was the fast heart beat under his fingers as he rested them against Dean's neck, was the pale, cool, clamminess of his brother's skin, was the uneven rhythm of Dean's breathing, was the way the blood had ceased to well, seemingly a good sign but was one of the worst. Meant Dean's circulation was slowing down, that things might soon shut down…like his liver..his lungs…his heart. Dean was dying...but Alec had told Sam he could stop it, had told Dean he wouldn't let him. But this…this wasn't Dean, Dean who took on monsters on a daily basis, who went fifty rounds with White. Who didn't back down, no matter what Hell threw at him. This frail, listless, helpless man couldn't be his brother, the brother who had rescued him from prison, adopted him, taught him how to fight the supernatural but, more importantly, how to be a brother, what it felt like to have a family. "Dean," the name escaped him as a sob, as a little brotherly plea as he bowed his head until it rested on Dean's chest. He wanted Dean to make this better, to give him the strength he had from the very beginning, to offer him hope and love. "I need you, Dean. I've never let myself need anyone before but I need you, big brother," felt his tears drip onto his brother's already abused body.

Hearing the door handle mechanism before the door swung open, Alec instantly straightened, wiped the tears and the terror from his features. Steadying his hands, he set them to the task of inspecting the wound on Dean's chest as Sam entered the room. Sam was counting on him to be strong, to be the infallible Manticore soldier, to be the miracle that they needed. Sam didn't need to see that he was just a little brother, terrified to lose his big brother, was just a sick science experiment that had never really lived up to it's potential. Whose distinctiveness, whose blood had been more a curse on the world than it had ever been a blessing. '_Until now_,' he vowed as he watched Sam dump his treasures onto the other bed , watched as Sam stilled as he saw the unvarnished graveness of his brother's wounds, how ravaged his brother's body truly was by the Hell Hound's teeth and claws.

"Ok, elevate his legs and I'll need some soap and warm water to begin cleaning out his wounds," Alec softly ordered, his eyes leaving the sight of Sam and refocusing on Dean, finding that, no matter how badly Dean looked, watching Sam's eyes switch from despair to hope to terror to need was worse. He didn't have to track Sam's action to know the other man was quickly doing as he asked, as if his instructions were trusted fully, as if he was trusted. It made Alec's gut churn, the trust, the fact that he was the only thing standing between Dean and death. That it was up to him to save his brother, to save them all.

As Sam sat the ice bucket full of soapy water on the nightstand, Alec eyes met Sam's. Something shifted in Sam's gaze, told Alec he wasn't the poker player Manticore had trained him to be. "Sam…" he breathed, pleaded, entreated, knew the other man saw his doubt, read his fear like he did his father's journal, knew that, where there should have been confidence, there was terror.

"You can do this, Alec," Sam stated almost with anger, not sure if he was trying to convince Alec or himself, was angry at Alec's doubt or his own. But when Alec numbly nodded and looked away, he reached out, gripped Alec's bicep, brought his younger brother's eyes back to his. "You can do this," he repeated his words now gently reassuring. "What you can do for family, for love…it'll surprise you," he revealed, a small tender smile on his lips as his eyes fell on Dean, as he reached out, put his hand on Dean's head. "Dean and I…what we've survived, what we've done for each other…it's not …_normal. _It goes against all the odds." Eyes finding Alec's again, Sam stated, "And you're part of that, Alec. You've become part of us." Then Sam pulled on a smile, offered humor like Dean would have, "Crap, Alec, stitching Dean up, swapping blood with him, that's just your final initiation into the Winchester family. After this, there is no going back."

Sam's words broke through Alec's fear, had him smirking, even though it was weakly, couldn't dampen the anxious, terrified look in his eyes. "Ah, that's alright," he replied with a shrug. "I wasn't looking for a way out anyway. Course I wasn't looking for a way out of Manticore either so maybe my sense of loyalty isn't quite the healthiest."

Sam gave Alec a playful shove on the shoulder, groused, "I can't believe I have to deal with two smart aleck brothers. You sure you didn't see a clone for me running around the old compound, you know, some way to even the odds out in our family?"

"Well, they were some pretty hideous looking guys down in the lower levels that might have had some DNA resemblance…."

"I'm sorry I asked," Sam cut him off but then his eyes alighted on Dean and it stole away his breath. Skirting by Alec, he came to stand by Dean, couldn't keep from reaching out, gripping Dean's wrist. "I know you have only known Dean a few months and you don't have much experience with family…brothers," he inhaled sharply and raised his head to meet Alec's eyes. "But Dean…" Sam shook his head, upset that he couldn't say the words without his voice betraying him, without his eyes beginning to sting all over again. "He's not just another big brother, Alec. Everyone doesn't _get_ a brother like Dean, you know." He couldn't help looking back to Dean, tightening his hold on his brother. "He's given up everything for me, to keep me safe. Would do the same for you."  
"I know," Alec said quietly, found he didn't have enough air in his constricted lungs for more than a whisper. Then Sam's teary eyes again met his, stole away more of his breath.

"I can't lose him, Alec. I just can't. If I need to steal from a blood bank or make a crossroads deal of my own or bind a reaper..I'll do that," Sam voice rose with his conviction, with his fear but then Alec's gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, gave him another anchor, another handhold on sanity.

"Whoa, whoa. You're forgetting about the state of the art genetic wonder that I am. Let's not discount my efforts just yet," Alec lightly returned, prayed that he could be the solution, that he could make the difference between losing Dean, between losing both of his brothers.

"I didn't mean to discount you, your efforts, Alec. I just meant if they didn't work…"

"I know," Alec gently said, gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze. "Hopefully we won't need a backup plan but if we do, I'm part of that too, alright."

Sam bite his lip but nodded, felt somewhat better knowing that Alec wasn't talking about dissuading him from doing whatever he could to save Dean, was instead going to help him. That he truly wasn't alone in his fight to keep Dean with them.

Releasing Sam, Alec pulled in a breath, forced himself to put away the little brother in him that was terrified he would lose his brother and don the persona of the highly trained, never-lose-a-fellow-soldier, don't-come-back-until-the-mission's-done- and-it's-a-success Manticore soldier. Feeling his heart rate tack down, his adrenaline taper off and shaking out the last trembles in his hands he stepped toward Dean. Clinically he assessed Dean's condition, knew that three things were fighting to take his big brother away from him: the physical damage caused by the merciless teeth and claws of the hell hound, extensive blood loss and shock. '_Well, you're not getting him_,' he silently vowed as he began to clean his brother's wounds with gentle, steady strokes. Hell hadn't won today and Heaven, well, they would just have to wait to induct this particular troublesome saint into their midst.

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Bobby was barely out of his car before the motel room flew open and Sam was quickly crossing to his car. Instantly, desperately he sought to read the younger man's emotions, to know if he had come too late. But as much as fear marked Sam's pale features, determination overshadowed it.

"You need help carrying anything in," Sam asked breathlessly, anxious to get back into the room, back to Dean's side.

"Back seat," Bobby replied, couldn't find the strength to ask how Dean was doing, not yet. His hands full of his stolen medical supplies, he used his hip to close the door and headed for the motel room. Sam beat him there, crossed the threshold before he could, likewise juggling supplies and holding the paramedic case in a white knuckled grip.

It was only the hunter in Bobby that kept him from stumbling at the harsh sight of the exposed wounds on the man that he considered a son, that allowed him to keep moving forward, to seemingly detachedly put down his supplies like they were camping equipment, not means to keep someone he loved alive. However, the father in him, the father that the Winchesters had forced him to become, wanted to back out of the room, to tell himself this was another dreamscape he was having on the wacky weed from a few months ago. That it couldn't be real. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't let Dean get hurt, wouldn't let him go, die …just like Dean's oath to him, '_I'm not going to __let__ you die. You're like a father to me.' _

But this, this wasn't a dream, was a nightmare which he couldn't wake up from, couldn't even escape through death. No, this was where his cowardice had gotten them. For the thousandth time, he cursed himself for running away from Dean, from the agony that had poured off the younger man after Sam had died. For being unable to bear seeing the ever so strong boy brought to his knees in grief. For not knowing, not _guessing_ what Dean might do, that he would willingly forfeit his own life to undo what had happened, to get Sam back. Hated himself for letting Dean's illusion of strength fool him into thinking the boy couldn't be broken…could endure his brother's death. '_And look where that got us?!'_

He jumped when a hand landed on his arm, found that Sam was standing at his side, that the younger Winchester had enough heart to spare him a worried glance. "Bobby, you alright? You get everything without trouble?" he heard Sam's drawl, heard the gentleness and the barely restrained heartbreak in the boy's tone.

Nodding, he broke free of Sam's hold, began pulling supplies out of bags and boxes. "Rufus knew where the town's paramedic bay was so I raided everything from the ambulance, would have taken the vehicle if I thought we could have hidden it around here," he said, only raising his head from his rummaging to hand Sam a box of rubber gloves, a bottle of saline and a professional suture kit. "Crap, I forget the oxygen tank in the trunk," he cursed, waiting until Sam had a good grip on the supplies he had passed to him before leaving the room at a fast trot.

Turning around, Sam placed the supplies on the bed beside his brother's leg, couldn't help flicking his eyes to Dean's face, wished that there was some sign of consciousness even as he knew it was a blessing that Dean was not awake to feel the pain of his injuries, or the agony their efforts to save him would produce. Beside him, Alec lifted the soapy washcloth and his bloody hands from Dean's chest wound, quietly mumbled, "I need to go wash my hands," before he slipped away, stole into the bathroom.

Sam couldn't help sliding into Alec's vacated position so he could draw closer to Dean. Putting his hand on his brother's forehead he quietly reassured even as he sensed the coldness of his brother's skin, the way his brother's body shook slightly, "Hey, you're whole medical team's here now and we're going to fix you up, alright. You just have to be that stubborn jerk you always are and hang."

Lightly brushing his hand back through Dean's hair, he bit his lip, felt the tears come again. "I can't do this alone, Dean. You've always had my back, always. Even when you were in that stupid coma you found a way to be there for me, to tell me that you hadn't gone, were fighting to stay with me. You can do that again. Tell the reaper to go fly a kite…or you probably would say 'Bite me," right?" his laughter weak and nearly a sob at the end. Resting his hand gently against Dean's forehead, he breathed, "I know you better than anybody, remember. I know you can fight this, can stay with me. So just do it, Dean. Stay with me, man. Just stay here with me, with Alec…with Bobby. Staying is what you're good at Dean. Always has been."

Alec stopped on the threshold of the bathroom, halted by Sam's painful, desperate entreaty. Closing his eyes, he tried to wipe away the traces of his momentarily falter in his barriers, in his control. Hoped that the only witness to his doubt, his tears that surfaced a moment ago was the bathroom mirror. But now, hearing Sam's words, proven again that Dean was Sam's _world_….it made his poorly reconstructed walls shake. Rachel had been Berrisford's world…and he had taken her away from him…had taken her away from both of them.

Cursing, he took a step back into the room, fisted his hands and leaned against the sink. That couldn't happen again. He couldn't make that type of mistake again, couldn't be weak enough to not fight for what he loved, to keep who he loved safe. '_I'm not losing Dean. I'm not letting Sam lose his brother.'_ Pushing off the sink, he stalked out of the room, went back to where he belonged, with his brothers, fighting at their side, not willing to concede this particular battle. Ever.

When the oxygen tank snagged on something in the trunk, Bobby began cursing the trunk and the tank. And it caught him unaware, how quickly the curse turned into a choked sob. Stilling his motion, he leaned his head again the open trunk and tried to smother his emotions. '_God, I know I spent more time cursing You than praising You but that boy in there, he's good, doesn't deserve this, any of this. He's the best man I've ever known…was even before he was old enough to slide behind the wheel of a car. I know he deserves a rest, deserves to be somewhere safe, out of anyone, I know that. And maybe it's selfish, wanting him to stay…but that's what I'm asking. Sam, he can't live without that brother of his. And Alec, I don't know how you feel about him, him being created in a lab and all but if you care for him at all you can't rob him of having the best big brother this world has ever seen.'_

Rolling his head against the trunk, he sighed. Old fool he was, crying, sobbing to a God that shouldn't care what he wanted, not after all he had done…and had not done. Straightening, he levered the oxygen tank free of the trunk and slammed the truck. Roughly he wiped away his tears but only took one step toward the room before he stopped. '_Lord, you want me to beg than I begging. Not for those boys in there but for me, cause losing Dean….it isn't something I can handle. Make me do whatever penance you want, just let us keep Dean awhile longer…sixty years or so would do nicely.'_

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The threesome worked like a well honed team, their goal giving them the strength and fortitude to not accept even the notion of any setbacks. They were working to save the best of each of them and there could be no outcome less than victory.

Tersely, Alec asked for saline and sutures and scissors and Bobby handed it to him while Sam kept the flashlight's beam steady, his other hand unconsciously latched on Dean's hand, holding on. Alec's motions were controlled, concise, didn't hint at the inner turmoil roiling through the transgenic as he tried to forget the blood was his brother's, the viciously ripped skin and muscles under his hands belong to someone he loved, that one mistake on his part could cost him any happiness he wanted for himself, had finally deemed himself worthy to have.

Hearing Dean's breath quicken, Bobby slipped to the other side of Alec and increased the flow of oxygen before he gently touched the nasal canal leads resting on Dean's face, made sure they hadn't slipped, that they were keeping the worse of Dean's shock at bay. Turning, he checked the IV, made sure there was still liquid in the IV bag hanging on the IV pole he had stolen, that the pain medication and electrolyte solution was still offering what help they could to the badly wounded man's body. But found he couldn't pull back from Dean without resting his hand gently on the wounded man's head for a moment, silently pleading to the young man, '_You never ever backed down from a fight when your family was at stake so you can't fold now, Dean. Keep being the stubborn kid I know you are, son.' _Then he forced himself to step back, to return to his place on the other side of Alec. He had a debt to pay to the Winchesters and he would see it done because, as much as being inducted into the Winchester circle hurt at times like this…he knew what an honor it was. The thought made him shift his look to Alec, wondered, for a moment, if the young man knew just how cursed and utterly blessed he was.

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TBC

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Ok, I did mention there would be angst and that I was in a sappy mood, right?

The next chapter is written but needs some fine tuning before I post it.

Now, for those of you like a heads up, who like to look at the clock at 8:45pm and determine there are only 15 more minutes remaining in the SN episode like I do, I'll be wrapping this tale up in 2 more chapters. Of course I foresee the last one to be rather long..which is kind of standard procedure with me.

Well, thanks again for enduring my scribblings!

I know I just dumped all this angst on you but I really hope you have a wonderful day!

Cheryl W.

(Aw come on…you KNOW I'm not going to let Dean die, right? Not after I went through the effort of saving him from Lilith and the Hound and Hell. 'Sides…how could I write more SN fanfiction if I killed him?)

So now I can wish you to have an Awesome Day without my conscience bothering me that I tanked your day with my story!


	19. Chapter 19

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Spoilers for No Rest for the Wicked. My Word program was giving me some problems so hopefully no lines are missing from the text!.

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Chapter 19

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'_It shouldn't be commonplace, being familiar with your brother being unconscious, being __hurt'__, _Sam thought remorsefully_, _bitterly_. _Knew he shouldn't know, from past experience, what it felt like to brace Dean in his arms while wounds on Dean's back were tended to, anymore than he should have had a calming technique already in place for instances like this. What kind of family expected this, anticipated it?! Blood, wounds, unconsciousness, pain. '_Mine_,' he acknowledged darkly even as he realized that his normal techniques to quiet his fears would be worse than useless this time, would incite the flames of his fears instead of dousing them. Because making comparisons between Dean's present injuries and his past injuries, it would not reassure him that Dean had been in worse shape and had pulled through just fine. No, this time, that comparison offered despair instead of hope. Dean had never been this grievously wounded before.

'_And lived_,' he qualified without conscious thought, remembering too vividly the months he had been forced to watch Dean die. Over and over and over. In a thousand different ways. '_Ways just like this_.' Then the dog attack replayed itself in the movie reel in his head. He had only been a few steps away, was calling out for Hollenbeck's daughter, had heard Dean's soft invite to the dog, '_Does somebody need a friend_.' Dean had bled out from the bite at his jugular, died again in his arms, and he had had time for one coherent thought before the Trickster reset the game. "_Stupid dog doesn't need a friend but I need my brother, Dean."_

Now Dean felt that way again, heavy and lifeless in his grip, dying. He didn't even know his breath hitched until Alec took precious time away from stitching Dean's back to level a worried look at him.

Acutely aware of Sam, almost as much as he was of Dean, Alec reacted to the change in Sam's breathing, to the catch that felt like it was the on the precipice of being a sob. Could see that Sam was surprised, almost embarrassed by his attention, that his fleeting weakness had been detected. '_Don't break down, Sam or I'll lose_ _it, man_,' he pleaded but kept that need out of his expression, didn't want to put any more weight on Sam to be the unshakeable rock than there already was. Instead he hoped his look gave reassurances to the older man, spoke of confidence, that he was able to be the liar Manticore had molded him to be.

When Sam gave a weak smile of embarrassment, offered him a glimmer of encouragement like an older brother should, Alec readily returned his attention to stitching the wound closed on Dean's back. Suddenly feeling too vulnerable in the guise of little brother, he retreated back to the relative safe persona of medic, of uninterested party, of stranger. Retreated because he wasn't sure of the victory, wasn't certain of the strength of his defenses, didn't know if he could survive a defeat of this magnitude.

He worked in silence, his hands deftly striving to pull ripped skin together again, to try and fix, even beautify, what was horrific: a gaping wound on his brother's body. A wound that he had been too late, too weak to prevent. Knotting the last stitch, he ran his fingers lightly over his work as if he were checking it for imperfections, was instead reassuring himself that the flesh under his hands was still warm, allowed himself to think of the body under his fingers as his brother's and not some stranger's.

Breaking from his trance, he raised his head and nodded to Sam, said, "I'm done. Let's lay him on his back," his voice more hoarse than he expected, making him realize that he hadn't spoken in a long while, hadn't needed to as he and Bobby had come into a rhythm. He had cursed the need for that rhythm, that it had come to be _almost_ monotonous, stitch after stitch. But hadn't. Had never truly been tedious…had remained heartbreaking, Every. Single. Stitch.

Clenching his jaw, he slid his hands behind Dean's back, helped Sam ease their brother back onto the mattress, was careful to not dislodge the IV in Dean's hand or the oxygen nasal canal. Felt whatever small relief he had gained at the warmth of Dean's skin falter when Dean's head limply fell back onto his forearm, when his brother's body moved so lifelessly in his arms.

Sliding his hand behind Dean's neck, Sam eased his brother's head from Alec's arm, settled it gently onto the mattress as the rest of Dean's tall, muscled form was carefully eased flat by Alec. "Hard part's over, Dean," Sam softly announced, ghosting his hand lightly over Dean's clammy forehead, through his hair, wishing Dean would flinch away, slap his hand away, would react like Dean, invincible, big brother Dean. Dampening his disappointment, he tried to joke like Dean would, even pulled on a smile for the presentation. "Next is your dream come true: your chance to get some super soldier mojo DNA from Alec." Knew he was a chicken for calling it DNA, for not calling it what it was, unable to choke out the word 'blood'. But he was conflicted at the thought that blood was going to pass from Alec to Dean, that Dean's life rested, not in Alec's hands, but in the nature of Alec's blood. Yellow Eyes had killed his mother so that he could give him such a 'gift', to mark him, mutate him into something less than human, something that he had been too scared to tap into even to save his brother's life. He hated that Bobby's words of '_Family doesn't end with blood_,' seemed a double edged sword now.

And, for the life of him, Sam couldn't decide what blood truly was: a curse? a salvation? Whether it should be discounted or was the only thing that mattered. Maybe it was all of that..and none of that. Prayed that, stacked up against love and Winchester stubbornness, blood was what they made it, could be coerced and molded into what they needed it to be. That it was neither bad nor good, was just another weapon in their arsenal. '_And just like any other weapon, Alec and I will use it to keep our family safe. Just like Dean taught us to.'_

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The Berrisford Assignment not withstanding, Alec had been an exemplary asset for Manticore. Utilizing skills of thievery, deception or callous force, he had achieved the goals his masters set for him. Could even pretend, during the daylight hours, that the collateral damages for those successes didn't weigh on his mind, let alone a conscious he wasn't supposed to be in possession of. And it had been an easy, guiltless transition in his post-Manticore world to adapt those same skill sets to get what he wanted in life. To change the focus of his world from Manticore's needs to his own, to convince himself that his own needs may not rival Manticore's national security needs but they certainly justified thievery and deception.

Then Dean and Sam had come into his life, had turned everything more upside down than even Manticore's dissolution had. They made him question everything he knew, everything he thought he was, everything he wanted to be. Had nurtured the vigilantly suppressed need in him to give instead of take, to save instead of destroy, to fight, not for his own needs, but for the needs of others..of even strangers.

And in the past hours, all of his newly unleashed instincts had been deployed but one, and that one was way past due. It was time to return what Lydecker had stolen twenty some years prior from Dean, for his mutated blood to give Dean life as surely as Dean's blood had given him life. Wanted things to come full circle. Knew it was ironic that, in his own way, he was carrying on the Winchester tradition: a life for a life. Wanted to pay back, even in some minuscule way, what Dean had given him. Not only life, but family, brothers…hope.

Clenching his fist, Alec watched the IV lead from his vein to Dean's arm flow with blood. Though Dean's wounds were stitched and antibiotics were slipping into his system via the other IV, he had seen enough wounds on Ordinaries to know his brother's body couldn't function without regaining a vast portion of the blood that he had lost, couldn't generate the strength to fight the massive wounds it had sustained, didn't have the ability to heal such devastating damage. Not without some miracle…or, in place of that, than a transfusion of some top secret, scientifically altered blood.

Hearing the first drops of water splashing onto the tiles of the shower, he was still surprised Sam had obeyed his terse order to take a shower to remove the blood coating his skin, to change his blood drenched clothing. Wasn't sure if he had done it for Sam …or himself, because he had seen enough of Dean's blood for a lifetime, couldn't focus with the handprints and slashes of red marring Sam's shirt and jacket. If he fine-tuned his hearing, he could detect the shuffle of feet outside the door, knew Bobby was pacing nervously in his sentry duty. But the running water, the shuffling feet, they were just a distraction from the cruel quiet blanketing the room.

He wasn't used to Dean being quiet. Hated worse that it felt like it had when he sat beside Rachel's bed, when he was void of hope that she would wake up, that she would ever know how sorry he was. Didn't want to think about Dean never knowing how sorry he was. Suddenly words tumbled from his constricted throat, "Dean I'm sorry. I screwed up, didn't get there in time to stop…this." His hand swept above Dean's body, indicated the wounds on his brother's body he knew were there, concealed under the blankets. "Some ace in the hole, I turned out to be, huh?" '_Some brother I am.' _"We should have seen this coming, maybe I did and just…" he broke off, scratched the back of his head nervously and gave a bark of bitter laughter. "The whole thing with White proved I was a danger to you but I thought…" his voiced broke on the word and he tried it again with more conviction. "I actually thought I would be able to protect you this time, use the freaky genes of mine and do something good with them. Dumb, right?" eyes fixed on Dean's face, desperate to hear Dean growl at his words, to defend him like he had from the very start, even when he was just a stranger wearing his face.

No bark to cut the chick-flick drama, no flicker of long lashes against translucent skin, Dean's utter stillness: It was the last straw for Alec. There was no calculated emotional valve opening, was only a tidal wave of despair that made his sob crest over the silence in the room. Seared away the locks he had struggled to keep intact as he had worked to save Dean's life, to put together his brother's savagely broken body. He choked on the next sob, scrambled to get himself in control before he shattered completely, before he became useless to either of his brothers.

Leaning forward, he rested his cheek against the top of Dean's head and slid his hand across Dean's chest, fingers wrapping around the left side of Dean's neck. Closing his eyes, he rasped out, "I lied, Dean. I don't curse the day I met you and Sam, I treasure it. It's the best thing that ever happened to me and I'm not ready to give up on it, the dream, the idea of family: you, me, Sam."

Opening his eyes, he didn't move, didn't release the so needed contact with his brother, found strength in being that close to Dean, in hearing his breathing, feeling his heartbeat under his arm, of remembering how in awe he had always been in Dean's presence. "You hear me? I'm not giving up on you, or on our family. And if you think you can just bail on me…Well, I have a problem with that," he declared with conviction and determination as he raised his head, reluctantly lifted his hand, his arm from his brother and settled back in his chair, eyes never leaving Dean's face.

Shifting his shoulders and his walls alike, he continued his commentary, "Ok, fine, you're going the stoic route. I can respect that. Sure, I'll just amuse myself by say, painting the Impala," he gave an upside down smirk along with his threat. "I hear hot pink is the new black. And paisley interior…it's all the rage."

"You do any of that and he'll haunt you," Sam smirked from his vantage point in the bathroom doorway, the hoarseness of his voice belying the lightness in his tone. It was almost satisfying, seeing Alec startled, to catch the highly trained soldier off guard. With Alec's glare searing into him, he left the bathroom, crossed to his brothers. "Trust me, I've heard the threat often enough to believe it," his words affectionate as he looked down at Dean, remembered Dean's words after his heart attack….the night before in that house when it seemed all hope was lost.

And now…Dean wasn't gone, was there, was hanging on by his fingertips but was still fighting. Sam looked to Alec, knew that Alec had been the deciding factor the previous night, not only at the house but in this very motel room. As he opened his mouth to voice his gratitude, he finally took note of Alec's appearance, the haggardness in his features, the paleness of his skin….the state of his clothing.

"Alec!" Sam exclaimed, dropping to a crouch beside Alec. Reaching for his younger brother's chest, his torn, bloody clothing, he drew in a sharp breath as he uncovered wounds that mimicked the ones Dean had on his chest: claw marks, scratches, puncture wounds. "Why didn't you tell me you were wounded?!" he demanded then chastised himself, fingers lightly brushing over the wounds, inspecting them. "Crap! You shouldn't have **had** to tell me, I should have known. Dean would have known you were hurt, he always asks if I'm alright. Always. Even when he's practically…" he cut his words off before the word '_dying_' escaped. Clenching his jaw, he stifled his fears, the guilt he felt at having missed Alec's wounds, forced himself to focus on taking care of his brother. "We have to clean out these wounds and stitch them."

"I'm alright," Alec reassured, surprised at the panic coming off of Sam, panic for him. When Sam's incredulous look landed on him, he downplayed with a wave of his hand, "Ah, just a few scratches. Normal battle scars when you toss felines and canines together in a ring."

Shaking his head at brothers who thought they could joke or lie away their injuries, Sam lifted Alec's shirt up, grimaced at the dried blood that congealed around the wounds. Letting the shirt go, he ran his hands down Alec's arms, found some tears and blood stains on Alec's sleeves. Raising his eyes to Alec, he tilted his head as he also noted the paleness in Alec's features, could see the freckles standing out across his nose…just like he always could on Dean when his brother lost most of his coloring. Swallowing as worry crested, he breathlessly asked, "Alec, how much blood did you give Dean already?" cursing himself for not knowing that answer, for not recognizing that Alec would willingly drain himself dry to save Dean.

Instead of answering Sam's question, Alec strategized, "I'll give him another pint now. Then we can watch his vitals and determine if he needs more blood in a few hours."

"Another pint.." Sam repeated, in surprise and concern, couldn't imagine the state Alec would be in if he allowed him to follow through on his plan. "No," he simply said, hands reaching for the IV in Alec's arm. Unexpectedly, his little brother's hand coiled around his wrist, detoured his intentions. "I'm not letting you give another pint, Alec!"

"Dean needs it!" Alec growled, sounding too much like a cat protecting its young, his eyes blazing into Sam's, offering up an unvoiced threat.

Alec's proclamation halted Sam's logic, had him looking to Dean's face, wished his brother's features gave him reason to hope, showed a marked improvement. But Dean still looked close to dying, to slipping away. Suddenly, Sam felt torn between loyalties, between one brother and the other. Like he was expected to make the choice: Dean's life or Alec's health. Dean's life or Alec's _life_. It was too reminiscent of being in that cabin, his father demanding he kill him to defeat the evil that had wrecked all their lives and Dean begging him to not pull that trigger. Knowing he had to choose between vengeance and love, between his father's love and Dean's. "Don't make me choose, Alec," he brokenly implored, pain filled eyes coming up to Alec's confused gaze. "Don't make me choose between you and Dean, your life or his."

Alec's breath caught. He hadn't meant to do that, to lay that ultimatum on the line. Had just been so focused on Dean, on saving Dean that he had forgotten his other mandate: Saving Sam. "Sam, I'm alright, I can give another pint without hurting myself."

"Really?!" Sam challenged harshly, his emotions like a live wire in the room. "Because you're super human, right? Or maybe you think you're expendable?! But what you keep conveniently forgetting is you're my brother. You are Dean's brother. And right now I have one brother scaring the crap out of me, I don't need two, Alec." Ripping his wrist from Alec's suddenly slack hold, he reached for Alec's IV again, was relieved when his actions weren't derailed again. Pulling the IV out of Alec's arm with a sympathetic wince, he was going to remove the other end from Dean but Alec's capable, gentle hands were already there, replacing the IV with a sterile pad.

With Alec no longer bound to Dean and seemingly resigning himself to be the center of medical attention for awhile, Sam said, "Let's get you to the other bed so I can clean you up." Gripping Alec's elbow, he pulled the unexpectedly passive younger man to his feet.

Surrendering himself to Sam's needs, Alec came to his feet with his big brother's assistance but wasn't prepared for his genetically empowered body to falter on him, for his vision to tilt and his knees to weaken. Even as he reached out to latch onto Sam, his brother drew him into his arms, kept him off the floor and offered him the same fortifying connection he had moments before forged with Dean. Where the connection with Dean encouraged him to be the strong one, Sam's grip told him the opposite, told him that Sam was willing to offer him strength, would not judge his weakness. Sam's gentle, convicted words by his ear reinforced that belief. "I got you. I got you, Alec. You're going to be alright."

As he regained some of his strength, Alec didn't pull back but instead stepped further into Sam's hold, wrapped his arms around his big brother and held on, soaked up the hope, the strength Sam was emanating. "I don't know what else to do for him," he confessed, his voice trembling, chin resting on Sam's shoulder and hands fisted in the fabric of the back of his brother's shirt, wanting Sam to make this better, to tell him what to _do_.

Alec's tortured admission almost broke Sam's own barriers, the words almost the same ones that had echoed in his head during his shower. Lightly putting his hand on the back of his little brother's head, he held on tighter to his brother, felt the quaking in the lithe, genetically strong frame. "Dean would be dead if it weren't for you, Alec," his declaration whispered, as if to say it louder would undo something, reset the clock, steal his brothers away from him. "If you hadn't shown up….held off the hell hound…distracted Lilith…." All hope of control gone, he closed his eyes, leaned his head against Alec's. No matter how tenuous Dean's grip on life was at the moment, the fact that Dean had a grip at all was due to Alec, to his little brother's well timed entrance into the family battle. Sam knew with shame, with guilt that he had done nothing to save Dean, had been assigned a front row seat to his own brother's death…would have watched helplessly as Dean lost his life if Alec had not intervened.

"I should have gotten there sooner," Alec brokenly denied, holding tighter to Sam. "I waited …too long."

Shaking his head, Sam denied, "Dean would say you can't show your ace until the exact right time…when the winner seems inevitable." And from his prospective of the battle in that room in New Harmony, Lilith had won, was doing the worst she could to him: was taking away his brother, was condemning Dean to Hell. All in front of his eyes, all because of him. Mentally pushing that grim memory to the back recesses of his mind, he focused on the here and now, on the fact that Dean was alive, wasn't going to Hell, that Lilith had lost.

Giving Alec one more tight embrace, Sam drew back but kept his grip on Alec's shoulders. "If Dean asks, this never happened alright?" he enforced with a feeble laugh. "We went out and had shots and wracked up a pool game and won some money while he was healing up…but we never cried or hugged."

"Us? Cry?! Hug?! So not our type of thing.." Alec agreed, his voice still trembling even as he wiped away his tears, mirroring his big brother's actions. "Course knowing Dean he'll ask for his share of the pool money..and that, big brother, is coming out of your wallet, not mine," he said, giving Sam a pat on the chest before he maneuvered to the other bed, laid down with a grimace. And then he snapped his fingers, "Doctoring now. I don't want to be carrying around scars when Dean's going to probably heal up nicely like a baby. I'm not saying I'm competitive but…well, maybe I'm a little competitive…"

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Desolation radiated from Sam as he sat beside Dean. Without an audience, there was no one to be strong for and no one to witness the crumpling of his brave façade. Right then, he knew he would give anything in the world for Dean to wake up, tell him to stop being such a girl and stop holding his hand. But Dean's didn't move and his brother's green eyes refused to open. Whatever fragile hope he clung to was being bombarded by his fear that he truly would lose his brother.

Honestly, he wasn't sure if it made it better or worse, Dean not being in a hospital, the fact that he wasn't hearing a heart monitor…would never know when his brother's heart was showing signs of stopping. Felt a growing dread that the hand he held would become colder in his grip, would forever be incapable of squeezing his hand back. Taking in his brother's inanimate face, his freckles standing out starkly against his so pale skin, the years and strain the slack features didn't carry, Sam remembered Dean as a teenager, Sam's annoying, bossy big brother who thought he knew it all.

Biting his lip, Sam rested his other hand lightly on Dean's chest. "I'm sorry, Dean. I said…I said I would save you…I wanted to protect you…" his inhale turned into a gasp for breath and his exhale a trembling whoosh of air. But his next words were bitter, carried guilt and hatred. "Hell of a job I did. I should have allowed Ruby to teach me whatever dark tricks she wanted to. You did whatever you had to do to save me, I should have done the same for you."

And somewhere, he hoped that his words would get a reaction out of Dean: a furious denial, a shouted reprimand, a threat. Something, anything that told him Dean was still there, could still be reached, was still connected to him. He held his breath, waiting, waited for some flinch from Dean, for a twitch, for a grimace on his face, a movement from the hand he held. But it never came.

"Dean?! Dean?" Sam called out, voice ravaged, lost, searching his brother's face for the spark of life, of the hint of that fighting spirit that was all Dean. Tightening his grip on Dean's hand, he drew closer, leaned over further into Dean's personal space, looked down at his brother's face. "That crap you kept telling yourself, that I would be fine without you, that I am stronger than you…it's not true, Dean. It never was. You think walking away is hard, that Dad and I …we walked away from you because we were stronger than you. But you got it all wrong man. Staying is harder. Caring about someone is all about bravery. Loving someone, even when they hurt you, like Dad and I hurt you, that's love, that's real strength, real bravery. Dad and I …we were the cowards, thought it would hurt less if we walked away from you rather than seeing you get hurt, or being _forced_ to let you go. Cowards walk away from their family and you're no coward Dean."

Pulling back, he reluctantly removed his hand from Dean's chest, sat back in the chair but didn't relinquish his brother's hand from his grip. "Besides, there's no one better to teach Alec all about being a family than you, Dean. I would screw it all up, you know that," he gave a shaking laugh. "There is a reason you're the big brother, Dean, and not me. Though I think Alec's got that getting-hot-chicks step down he doesn't know crap about prank wars. And his whole transgenic thing, it's gone to his head, makes him think he doesn't always have to listen to older brothers. Last but not least is his whole misconception that he's expendable. He gets that from your DNA, you know. That self sacrificing crap that's got us right where we are now."

Biting his lower lip, Sam shuffled in his seat, felt tears track down his face but didn't check them, had not the strength or the desire to pretend any longer that he wasn't scared, wasn't breaking apart. "You told me that nothing bad would happen to me as long as you were around…" he said quietly, remembering that long ago conversation right after meeting Max Miller, naively thinking then that they had an idea how off track his abilities could get. "You giving up on that promise, Dean? You ditching your big brother, protective job? Looks that way to me, man. Cause if you're gone…bad things," he choked on the words, had to draw in a ravaged breath before he continued, "that doesn't even begin to describe what will happen to me, Dean. And what's worse, I might even welcome it. Because you were right, you hear that. You were right. I do have something Max Miller and Andy and Jake never had…**You!** I have you and that's saved me a thousand times. You've saved me."

Leaning over his brother again, he nearly whispered his entreaty, "Now it's time to save me again, Dean. Do what you do best. Be my brother, be Alec's brother. For once in your life, fight for yourself, Dean. If not for yourself, than do it for your family. Just do it, Dean. Keep fighting, keeping being my brother."

SNSNSNSNNS

For being a super charged soldier, Bobby thought the clone was awful jumpy. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he apologized, shutting his motel room door shut behind him. He had booked the room beside the Winchesters, because, though he didn't want to crowd the three men, he couldn't stand to be far away from Dean. Watching the clone drop his fight or flight stance, he noted the obvious tension that remained in the younger man's stance beside the Impala. "Getting any vibes of trouble?" he asked, walking toward the transgenic, ready to take over the protection detail for the next few hours.

"Vibes as in what? Flickering lights, lightening storms, crops wilting or using my super hearing to pick up the first bars of ominous cue music for doom?" Alec tartly shot back, uncertain why the older man had him terse and putting up barriers. Sam and Dean trusted this man. '_Course the trouble isn't that they trust him, it's that this guy doesn't trust me. Not even when it comes to my own__** brothers'**__ lives._' Struggling between railing at the man's audacity and wanting to earn his trust, Alec shook his head and looked away from the older man. He never did the right thing, why start now.

Feeling as if he and the clone…'_younger man', _he corrected himself, had gotten off on the wrong foot, Bobby crossed slowly to Alec, spoke amicably as he approached. "I'm going to take that as a no on the 'sensing evil approaching' question." Before he could reach the younger man's side, Alec was brushing past him, heading for his room. Sensing that grabbing the transgenic to stop his departure wasn't his best tactic, he did what he had to do with all Winchesters: Used words when they didn't, when they wouldn't. Stubborn idjits, all of them. "What you did for Dean…" When Alec halted, met his eyes head on, he could see that the younger man was uncertain if a reprimand or a congratulations was coming. It made him put more conviction in his next words. "It was the right thing."

"We don't know that yet," Alec hoarsely refuted, wishing to God he could tell if he had saved Dean's life or merely drew out his brother's agony.

"I've seen my fair share of wounds. Seen them treated by doctors in hospitals and by hunters huddled in ditches in the woods. Extensive blood loss…" he nearly choked on the words, on the memory of Dean, covered in blood, of the blood soaking Sam's clothing and Alec's and his own as they tended to Dean's injuries, "it's a killer in both settings."

"Maybe I should give him another pint. Maybe I shouldn't have let Sam stop me earlier…" Alec stammered, shifting on his feet, hand running through his hair.

"I know you're all powerful but even you couldn't survive giving too much blood at one time," Bobby pointed out, put some gruffness in his tone to prod the boy to get his defenses up. Instead he watched the doubt in the younger man's eyes grow, almost flinched at the desperation in the boy's next words.

"But if it saves Dean…"

"Don't you know by now that Dean would never want someone he loves hurt?! That he would be devastated if you died trying to save him? That's just the kind of big hearted jerk he is," Bobby countered, admiration and frustration in his tone but a softer emotion was gleaming in his eyes as they met Alec's. Knew that he was bound to this young kid by the love he had for the Winchesters, that they both had for the two, reckless idiots.

"He would have Sam. And Sam would have him. That's what matters most," Alec stated, his faith in his words unshakeable. No one who had spent any amount of time with Dean and Sam could misinterpret the connection they had, that they needed each other.

Bobby gave a chortle of scoffing laughter. "You try selling that to Dean?! Or even Sam?! I've seen their tempers, kid. I wouldn't get them riled." At the confused tilt of Alec's head, Bobby sighed and clarified like he was talking to an imbecile. "Family matters to them, most of all. And, like it or not, they've dragged you into their family. Me?! I have had to fight my way in. And even with me being honorary family, they wanted to bench me on this game."

Something eased in Alec and he felt a kinship with the older hunter for the first time. He gave a weak smirk. "They tried that with me too but I pulled the little-brother, we're-stronger-as-a-family, a-family-fights-for-each-other line."

"Good one. I had to fall back onto the family-doesn't-end-with-blood," Bobby admitted with a shake of his head as he leaned against the Impala, found that Alec was still there, was no longer looking at him warily. Satisfaction flared in Bobby that he had finally found middle ground with the younger man, was surprised to realize how badly he wanted to connection with Dean and Sam's little brother. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you before. Those boys," he tilted his head toward the door that Sam and Dean were behind, "they are like sons to me. Them accepting you should have been enough for me but I…"

"You were just trying to protect them. I get it. Man, do I get it," Alec allowed with an exhale of breath. Since his brothers had come into his life, he understood protection duty on a core level. Understood even more how hard it was to protect two very reckless, too brave for their own good let alone his peace of mind Winchesters. He and Bobby had their work cut out for them.

"Crappy job I've done," Bobby bitterly condemned himself as he looked away from the younger man. Not able to face even the blame that was sure to lurk in this new Winchester's eyes. "Guess there's a reason I never had sons of my own."

Alec's heart went out to the older man, understood now what had lurked in Bobby's eyes outside that house in New Harmony: fear, guilt, terror that he would lose Dean, lose someone he loved like a son. "That's what I thought about my having a brother," Alec drawled, remembering that notion only too well, thinking he deserved a grade A loony like "Ben" for a brother. "Till I meet them," he jerked his chin toward the motel door, to his brothers inside. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but they aren't good at taking no for an answer. And once you get to know them…"

"You're doomed to care about the idiots," Bobby snorted with disgruntled love. "It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't threaten to die on you every six months," he qualified, absently swiping at his eyes, his gaze on the still highway and not on Alec.

"Didn't make deals with crossroad harpies," Alec tacked on, his voice breaking even through his weak laughter.

"Didn't go and get themselves shanked in the back.." Bobby countered.

"Didn't think ten thousand volts of electricity was their friend…"Alec said with mock glee and a fake smile.

"Or that it was Ok to chat with reapers…" Bobby growled out.

"Or that leaving me was an option…" Alec heaved out, the words coming unbidden, before he could filter them. Turning his back on the older man and letting his watery gaze rest on the horizon, he bit down on his lip, fought to not come undone again.

Turning to Alec, seeing the quake in the young Winchester's back, Bobby exhaled loudly. Being a Winchester, loving a Winchester, it wasn't easy, would never be easy, but it was worth it. "Guess you better set that idiot older brother of yours straight then."

Alec drew in a steadying breath, "Yeah." Turning, he saw understanding, grief, fear and hope in the older man's eyes. "Thanks for letting me treat Dean."

"I didn't let you, Sam did," Bobby corrected but then softened his tone when Alec nodded weakly at his words. "Sides, I knew Dean trusted you already. Fact is, he thanked me for finding out about you. Thanked me for getting him another pain-in-the-butt little brother to do his bidding."

A small cough of laughter erupted from Alec and his eyebrows rose in challenge. "Oh really, do _his _bidding. We'll see about that."

SNNNNSNSNSNS

'_Dean_?' The call vibrated through Dean, somehow reached him, beckoned to him. It took him considerable time to realize it was his own name. Found that it wasn't really the soldier in him responding to a command, a sharp bark for his attention, it was the sound of the voice that called to him, that didn't order, but pleaded, that didn't demand but begged for his attention. It was Sam's voice. He knew that voice as well as he knew anything in life.

He had been there when that voice said its first word, had come to learn how to detect anger and sadness on the first syllable out of his brother's mouth. And what was in that raw voice now was sorrow, need, the like Dean had never heard from his little brother before.

In that moment, Dean thought he would have found a way to come back from Hell itself at the beckoning of that broken voice.

Though he wasn't in Hell, the stasis he was in felt like a void, one that was a little possessive of losing its only occupant. Every measure he made to break free was meant with a countermeasure, left him spent and barely conscious. Only Sam's voice gave him the strength not to concede the battle, to regroup in full unconsciousness for a while longer. '_You told me that nothing bad would happen to me as long as you were around…you giving up on that promise_?' That was Sammy alright. His little brother always knew how to play hard ball when he wanted something. But it was a little surprising to him what Sam wanted this time around: Him.

No matter all the words Sam had said, had wanted to say but he wouldn't let him, no matter all the research his little brother had done behind his back to break the deal, no matter that look in Sam's eyes when it was midnight, when his time was up, he had still clung to the belief that Sam would be alright without him. Thought Sam would come to realize he didn't need him…like he had in college. But what he heard in Sam's voice now, the imploring look Sam had leveled at him as he knelt beside him on the floor in that house in New Harmony…it made him doubt himself. Rethink his role in his brother's life, the necessity of his role even after Sam had come into his own, was his own man, according to Sam could_ 'take care of himself_.' But now Sam's words that had followed that declaration became clearer, '_I want you to worry about you. To care that you're dying.'_

Through the void, Sam's voice was like a candle, brought hope and light, was a sharp contrast to the desolation, the fear in his brother's tone. '_Now it's time to save me again, Dean. Do what you do best ..be my brother…fight for yourself Dean…keep being my brother.'_

Dean railed against the notion that he would be anything less than Sam's brother. It was who he was down to his core, some days it had felt like it was all he was, was the best he was. And then Alec had come into their lives. Had slipped past his defenses like the well trained soldier he was, not with tactics but with the strength of his heart. It had been no harder to accept the responsibility of Alec than it had been Sam. It came naturally, was an honor, the highest honor anyone could ask of him, that his father ever asked of him…that Alec ever allowed him. Was an honor he wasn't ready to forfeit, not yet, not when a part of him still sparked with life. '_Albeit weak, painful life_,' he amended as he fought against the void with new vigor, struggled to return to Sam, to Alec, to the family he knew was waiting for him. But more than that, Sam needed him to return and maybe Alec did too. At the heart of it, Sam was right, being a brother, it was what he did best.

Head bowed over his and Dean's intertwined hands, Sam jolted upright when Dean's hand moved in his. Hopeful, desperate eyes flew to his brother's pale visage. A wince scurried across the features, made Sam clutch tighter onto his brother's hand, quietly entreat, "Dean?" Then his prayers were answered as Dean's eyes fluttered open, as he was blessed with the sight of his brother's familiar, well loved gaze. Not giving Dean a chance to come more fully awake or dare to slip away again to unconsciousness, Sam leaned forward and slid his arms under his brother and gently but desperately pulled Dean slightly off the bed into a hug, chick flick moment be damned. "Dean," he exhaled torn between a sob and a laugh, his joy filling the room as he clutched possessively to his brother, daring any force, either of this life or of the afterlife, to just try and pry his grip loose.

"Sam..my," Dean managed to get out, unburying the strength to lift his hand far enough off the bed to snag his fingers in his brother's shirt. Felt and heard Sam's breath hitch by his ear even as he was pulled more firmly into his brother's strong embrace.

"Dean, I'm right here. Everything's alright now that you're back," Sam assured gently, forced himself to pull back, to settle Dean back onto the bed, to be satisfied with his hand resting gently on Dean's chest. Looking down into Dean's more lucid eyes, he smiled, didn't bother to wipe away the tear that tracked down his face.

"You …alright?" Dean wheezed out, his big brother instincts not letting the question go unanswered, especially at his brother's haggard, pale appearance.

Sam gave a small, happy laugh at his brother's usual inquiry. "I'm fine, Dean. Now that you decided to give up your prima dona, sleeping beauty routine."

"Bite me," Dean choked out, a ghost of his trade mark snark in the words. "Wait…ready been…bitten."

Shaking his head but unable to dampen down his blooming smile, Sam said, "Dude, how about we make a deal that you never use that phrase again."

Tiring, Dean closed his eyes, heard Sam take in a sharp, panicked breath at his gesture. "Chill, Sam," he exhaled weakly but there was conviction in his next words. "I'm not going anywhere."

Wielding his own conviction, Sam quickly returned "Damn right you're not, Dean," but his light touch on Dean's cheek was all tenderness. "Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

His eyelids too heavy to lift, Dean murmured, "Threat…or..promise," heard Sam's solemn promise of "Both" before he sank down into the void again. This time not to be its prisoner but merely its temporary guest.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

TBC

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Thanks for everyone who read this chapter and for the words of encouragement for last chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	20. Chapter 20

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Spoilers for No Rest for the Wicked. Thanks for the awesome reviews for last chapter! It's a real honor that this story is still being read and enjoyed, especially when it started out with such a weak storyline. I just wanted some good old harm/comfort/ new little brother scenes.

Because I can't quite figure out the last scenes for the story, I've broken down the finale into two chapters. You know me well enough to not need the warning but here it is …Sap ahead.

SNDASNDASNDASN

Chapter 20

SNDASNDASNDASN

When the motel room door flew open, Bobby and Alec spun around, were both terrified that the worst had happened. But Sam's beaming smile, eyes alight with happiness was an answer in and of itself.

"Dean's awake!" Sam exclaimed, then stammered, "Well, he was and now he's asleep but he woke up and we talked."

The declaration was enough to diffuse the heavy dread that had weighed down Bobby's every breath. With an audible sigh of relief, he leaned heavily against the Impala, closed his eyes a moment and offered up a heartfelt thanks for answered prayers. When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't surprised to see Alec swiftly crossing to the door or that the transgenic made sneaking by Sam's 6'4" frame into the room look easy. Kid might have been bred to be a soldier but he was a natural Winchester. Raising his gaze to the other Winchester, he was met with Sam's open look of gratitude, could hazard a guess at Sam's next words.

"Bobby…" Sam began, didn't know how to thank the older hunter for being there at the house in New Harmony, for helping to patch Dean up, for staying with him, Dean and Alec. After all, how did you thank someone for being your family?

"I know, son. Nowhere else I would have been," Bobby earnestly replied to the unspoken declaration, meant it soul deep, regardless of the torment they had gone through, the unholy despair at what had almost been. Family didn't end with blood and it didn't fold up and go home when things took a turn down a dark alley. Pushing off the Impala, he stood up, sought to be the reliable hunter Sam needed him to be instead of the weak-kneed, relieved surrogate father. "I'll keep watch a mite longer and you best get some sleep. When that brother of yours comes around again, he'll be a bear to keep in that bed so you better be up to the task of wrestling with him."

Nodding his head, Sam smiled, agreed with a soft, affectionate "I know," relishing the idea that Dean would be well enough to grumble about being stuck in bed. Was a million times grateful that Dean was alive to argue with him…about anything. And he knew that gift was partially due to Bobby's fierce loyalty to his family…to their family.

By the look in Sam's eyes and the depth of emotion in the younger man's two words, Bobby knew Sam wasn't just agreeing with his prediction on Dean's upcoming stubbornness. That Sam was acknowledging that he knew how deep his devotion for him and his brother went. And he loved him for it.

Seeing the older man shift nervously on his feet, as if he feared he was about to get hugged or cried on almost made Sam laugh. Instead, he gave Bobby another warm smile before heading back into the room to join his brothers. Safe in the knowledge that Bobby would make sure nothing threatened their newly reforged family.

Not wanting to intrude on Alec's time with Dean, Sam sank down onto the bed closest to the door and silently watched the scene before him. Watching as Alec leaned over Dean, rested his hand on Dean's forehead before shifting his touch to his brother's neck to check his heart rate, he wasn't worried about Alec's findings. Dean had promised that he wasn't going anyway and that was all he needed to hear. Dean kept his promises.

Sensing a franticness in Alec's motions as the younger man moved the covers off Dean, began inspecting the bandages, making sure no blood was seeping through their weave, Sam gently made a promise of his own. "He's going to be alright, Alec."

Data. That was what Alec had been trained to respond to, to trust. Cold, hard, consistent data. And the data he was collecting? It supported the notion that Dean was stable, that his vital signs were improving, that there was considerable evidence that his brother's chances of survival had increased. But it was not logical that Sam's declaration would diminish his fears, that his brother's unsubstantiated statement would reassure him that Dean was going to live more than all the data in the world ever could. "How do you _know_?" he quietly implored, his head bowed and his back to Sam as one hand lightly rested on Dean's chest and the other clamped around the side of the mattress both to anchor him and keep him on his feet.

"Because Dean promised me..because he said he wasn't going anywhere," Sam revealed, and the big brother part of him almost felt sad, _selfish _that Alec hadn't been there to hear Dean speak the words, to see Dean wake up. But the other part of him was greedily glad he had been with Dean, that he and Dean had time alone together. That it had been just been the two of them, like it had been since their father's death and before that, seemingly their whole lives. It wasn't that he resented Alec's presence in their lives. No, he had come to love Alec as a brother, but his new role as big brother didn't diminish the role he was born to: Dean Winchester's little brother. He smirked as he threw down an invisible gauntlet to Alec. '_You want to get some quality big brother time in this family, Alec? Well, you're going to have to fight for it…just like we have to do for everything else.'_

At Sam's faith drenched words, Alec closed his eyes, felt the tightness in his chest loosen. Faith, trust…love. It always came down to those three things in this family…in his family. '_Things I'm new at. But I can learn…I am learning.'_ Letting out his held breath, he opened his eyes, raised his look to Dean's face and smiled. "Oh, big brother, I can't _wait_ to tell you that you're part cat now. Think the convenience store down the road has catnip?" he threw over his shoulder, was rewarded with a bark of laughter from Sam.

Glad for Alec's humor, especially in the temporary void of Dean's, Sam returned, "Don't you think he's on enough drugs right now?" Found, as usual, that he had to be the sensible one in the family. He watched Alec shrug before he gave his comeback.

"Fine. We'll start with some cat toys and work our way _up_ to the catnip," Alec amended, turned around to shoot Sam a beaming, devious smile which caused Sam's eyes to alight with mischievous agreement. Turning back to Dean, Alec sank into the chair by the bed. Sliding his hand into Dean's, he unknowing took up Sam's exact pose of a few minutes ago. He settled in for the long haul, was willing to wait as long as he had to until he was blessed with the sight of Dean opening his eyes. After waiting, albeit unknowingly, twenty years for his brothers to show up in his life, surely he could wait a few more hours to talk to Dean, to know in his heart that he hadn't lost his brother, hadn't failed his family. That sometimes good overcame evil, love trumped hate and families …they stayed together.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

With Sam sacked out on the other bed and Bobby still on guard, Alec maintained his hopeful vigil beside Dean's bed. Even before Dean moved one muscle or the hand in his grip flexed, he detected the change in his brother's breathing. Heart racing, not in fear but anticipation, he slid closer, waited for Dean to awaken. A few minutes later when Dean's eyes opened, Alec felt like he had been granted the best gift of his life.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he gently questioned, free hand coming to settle on Dean's chest, offering an anchor to the disorientation he knew Dean must be feeling. Was ready and willing to do whatever he could to ease Dean's discomfort, to ensure his brother could stay awake for awhile. Wanted just the chance to talk to Dean, to know for himself Dean was going to be fine, for Dean to fill the void his painful silence had left in his world.

"Just peachy," Dean huskily quipped, blinking to get his littlest brother's face to come into focus.

"Yeah, peachy," Alec scoffed but there was no heat in the retort, no true reprimand for the sarcastic deflection. "Thirsty?"

Dean nodded. He didn't offer up an even a token protest when Alec's hand slid carefully behind his neck and his brother lifted his head, held the glass to his lips. The cool, refreshing taste of the water was worth whatever points of pride he had sacrificed. Far too soon the water was withdrawn and his head was settled back onto the pillow. Knowing that drinking too much water right then wasn't in his stomach's best interest didn't lessen his remaining thirst but the look in Alec's eyes distracted him. Was the same look Sam had sported when he woke earlier, a worn exhaustion mingled with relief and joy. Alec spoke before he could.

"I've never been so scared, thinking I was going to lose you," Alec admitted, let a smile do a hit and run on his face to downplay his emotions. But his eyes, still shadowed with despair, told Dean how true his words were. Lifting his hand from Dean's chest, he ran it nervously through his own hair, snorted, "Man, Manticore would be _sooo_ proud. They gave a factory recall because my twin was too blood thirsty. And me, I'm more likely to …I don't know, bake cookies" he said with bitter lightness. Looking down to his hand intertwined with Dean's he added with disgust, "Or hold your hand." Quickly withdrawing his hand from Dean's, he stood up, was going to get some air, was going to try and find the dignity, the wit that had weathered him through a million situations before.

Using the meager strength he had regained since first waking from the void, Dean lifted his hand, caught Alec's hand in his, stopped his brother from walking away from him. "Alec.. stay." Steadily he met Alec's surprised gaze, feebly squeezed the hand in his to get his point across because, for once, his mouth wasn't cooperating. Or, more specifically, his lungs were on strike, making breathing a task in and of itself and giving him an idea what it would feel like if the Impala chassis ever fell on his chest.

Frozen by Dean's touch and unwilling to deny Dean a thing, Alec reclaimed his chair, sought out his brother's eyes, waited for whatever Dean wanted to say to him. Felt selfish as he watched Dean swallow hard, detected the tremble in the hand that held his, knew that Dean was very weak, that he shouldn't waste his energy trying to coddle him: a grown man, _a soldier_. "Dean, we can talk later," he soothingly allowed. "You know, when it's been more than a few hours since we established this room as a triage station and made you our test subject," he added with a smirk, as if the awful dread and desperation the room had been witness to had never existed, didn't still permeate the essence of the space inside the walls. Or cling to his soul.

Recognizing Alec's standard deflection, especially since it was also one of his own, Dean decided to give Alec a moment to regroup. Rolling his head a little, he took in the state of the room, of himself. Behind Alec he saw Sam's slack face mashed into a pillow on the other bed, asleep. Took notice of the IV pole beside his bed, tracked the IV line to his hand. Felt, for the first time, the nasal canal. He reached up to find it but his hand was arrested on its route by Alec's stronger hand.

"Nope, that's staying for awhile," Alec insisted, pushing Dean's hand onto the bed and only releasing his grip when he felt Dean relax in acquiescence.

Drawing in a deep breath and coughing for his efforts, Dean felt Alec squeeze his hand, realized that Alec was giving him an outlet for his pain and discomfort. Meeting Alec's worried, assessing eyes, he ignored the tightness in his chest and the hitch in his breath, was determined to take away the pain in Alec's eyes. "You look like the guy that… took on a hell hound …for me. And I'm assuming …you had a part to play… in this whole… triage role playing game," he haltingly got out, tried to not gasp at the end, to greedily draw in breath to replenish his spent reserves.

Alec shrugged like his part was inconsequential but the gesture was in direct contrast to his smug smile. He explained away his actions with a careless tone, "I don't always play well with dogs. And my medic skills were getting rusty, wanted a chance to brush up on them."

Dean couldn't help but smile at his brother's comeback. "Seems to me like a true…baking cookies kind of guy …he would have stayed at home. Wouldn't have risked his life… let alone his wardrobe…to complete his mission," he countered, pointedly dropping his eyes to the smear of blood on Alec's shirt.

Following Dean's gaze, Alec winced, absently brushed at the stain as he explained, "Must have gotten that when I changed your bandages." But as the words left him he looked up guiltily to Dean, as if he were caught in the act of caring, of admitting that he had tenderly treated his brother's wounds, that he still considered himself in charge of making Dean well again.

Feeling as if he had won the battle, Dean tiredly smirked. "Hand holding tendencies aside…I would say Manticore …got their money's worth on you. It's just lucky for Sammy and me that …getting you… didn't cost us a dime."

"You're confused who the lucky one is," Alec protested before tapping on the IV bag, "must be the medication making you loopy." Then he turned back to his brother with unmasked affection in his eyes, gave the hand still in his a light squeeze. "Speaking about medication, how's your pain level?"

"How's yours?" Dean countered instead, his worry pouring out of his pain glazed eyes. After all, he knew first hand how excruciating it was to be a Hell Hound's chew toy, hadn't wanted either of his brothers hurt because of him, of his choices.

Heart swelling that, even amid his own pain, Dean was concerned for him, Alec shook his head at his big brother's one track mind. "Me, I'm fine, few scratches that barely broke skin. Course I wasn't the one the hound was determined to take apart," he reassured and deflected, chilled at the memories even as a new wave of overwhelming joy crested over him that he still had his big brother in his life, that they had kicked the hound and the chick holding it's leash to the curb. Permanently. "So now that we cleared that up, tell me how much pain you are in, Dean," he firmly ordered, lancing his look into his brother, making sure Dean knew he would get an answer from him one way or another.

"Pain, what pain?" Dean denied glibly, wished his words hadn't come out so breathy, so quietly. Knowing by the scowl slipping onto his brother's features that he was fighting a losing battle, he settled more firmly back onto the bed in defeat as he watched Alec open the channel on his IV, sending more pain medication into his system.

"Nighty night, Dean," Alec smugly cooed, watched with satisfaction as Dean's eyes began to flutter against his pale skin before sliding closed. "Don't worry big brother, Sammy and I have your back," he whispered before he settled back into his chair, resumed his vigil. He didn't even try to wipe the happy smirk off his lips.

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Dean felt it almost disconcerting the way his visitors played musical chairs on him, making it impossible for him to gauge how long his latest sojourn into sleep had been. '_At least I'm been upgraded from the 'holding hands aka I could still croak' stage to the 'just needing someone by my bed to make sure I don't wet the bed or puke on myself' stage_.' The wooziness and disorientation were less this time around, telling him that he was also not as doped up on pain meds anymore either. All good signs. Only thing bothering him yet was the thirst that had brought him around to consciousness. That and the oversight that had nagged him in his sleep. An oversight he was going to rectify right then..soon as he knew he could speak above a croaked rumble.

"Hey," he weakly called, was surprised Sam even heard him across the few inches that separated his bed and the chair his brother occupied.

Instantly dropping his book to his lap, Sam swung his look to Dean, felt his lips turn up into a wide smile. "You're looking better."

"That saying much?" Dean croaked out. Found that he didn't need to ask for water, that Sam, like so many times before, realized what he needed and gave it to him. No strings attached.

Sliding his hand behind Dean's neck, Sam eased Dean's head up just far enough so his brother wouldn't choke on the water he poured carefully into his mouth. He watched in relief as Dean made a weak effort to grip the water glass himself. Though he had no intentions whatsoever of relinquishing the glass to his brother's feeble grip, he was encouraged by the resurfacing of his brother's stubbornness. When Dean pulled back slightly, he reset Dean's head back onto the pillow and returned the glass to the nightstand. "Can I get you anything? Do anything for you?"

"Pie," Dean offered in jest, was rewarded with a laugh from Sam and a shake of his brother's head.

"Yeah, not happening. I think broth is on the menu for today…and tomorrow…and probably the next day," Sam shot him down with relish, enjoyed the grimace Dean affected for him.

"Oh great," Dean mumbled, though the thought of even broth made his stomach roil at the moment. He took a chance and shifted on the bed, found out immediately what a colossal mistake it was when pain erupted from seemingly a million points on his body. He hated that he moaned in pain, but couldn't bring himself to resent the hand that Sam rested on his shoulder to hold him in place, or that his actions had Sam adopting his gentle tone that soothed a part of him that was as wounded as his body was, maybe more. The part of his soul that needed to know he wasn't alone, that Sam was there, that Alec was there, that he hadn't lost his family, that they had fought for him. That irrevocably discounted what old yellow eyes had once said: '_You fight for this family but they don't need you, not the way you need them.'_

Having come to a stand at the flash of pain on Dean's face, Sam placed a restraining hand on Dean's shoulder, desperate to prevent his brother from hurting himself further. Added an acutely gentle order of "Whoa, lay still, Dean," because he knew just how rash Dean could be in light of his own pain. When Dean stilled under his hand, seemed to give up the notion of moving again, he cautiously sat on the mattress by Dean's hip, needed that closeness to his brother before he faced the pain in his brother's eyes.

"The hell hound did a number on you and you lost a lot of blood," he summarized but he cringed at the tame, Disney description his words painted. Remembered too vividly the brutal reality of what his brother had endured: being shredded by an invisible hell hound, his blood pooling onto hardwood floors, the Impala's backseat, coating the hands, clothing…souls of those who loved him most, were fighting to save him, to keep him with them. Dying, slowing, painfully, on the brink of leaving, forever.

Sam shook his head in denial and sorrow, couldn't allow Dean to think his wounds should be downplayed, that his pain was being dismissed. "Did a number on you…" he repeated his own words bitterly. "Dean it's a miracle you're alive. If it wasn't for Alec showing up…for his medical training and his blood…" But he broke off the words, couldn't utter the alternate conclusion that had almost been.

"So my plan worked," Dean boasted even as he knew his plan had literally gone to Hell when the hell hound made its appearance, when Lilith possessed Ruby, when Ruby's knife had fallen from Sam's grip.

Laughter with an edge of hysteria erupted from Sam. "Yeah, plan worked like a _charm,_ Dean," he sarcastically drawled, eyes haunted with memories.

Memories that Dean wished he could take away. "You're ok, Alec is ok." Then a flash of panic overcame his features when he took stock of his family. When he started to rise from the bed, Sam's hand blocked him for a second time. "Bobby, is he OK?" was his raspy demand, feeling sick at the possibility that he had gotten Bobby killed, that the older man's loyalty to him might have cost him his life.

"Bobby's fine, Dean. He's in the room next door, been sitting at your side for a few turns since this all happened. Should I go get him?" Sam asked, willing to do anything to ease the panic in Dean's eyes. Even give up his most coveted position at his finally lucid brother's side.

But Dean trusted Sam explicitly, didn't need proof to know his brother was telling him the truth. Letting the fight to get up fade away, he exhaled, "Nah, I can see him later, right?" a question in his words.

"Yeah, he's not going anywhere until he talks to you, Dean," Sam assured with a gentle smile, relieved when he felt Dean relax, saw the panic in his brother's eyes fade away.

"Well then my plan did work. We're all alive. I'm a little hazy on the details but I believe Lilith is totally out of the picture and, since the Hell Hound returned to sender, my deal's broken. Everything turned out like we wanted it to," Dean sugar-coated, wanted to wipe away the last tendrils of anguish that lurked in his brother's eyes.

"Ah, yeah, except the part where _you almost died, Dean_," Sam said with heated frustration. Couldn't quite believe Dean was going to try and pretend it didn't matter what cost had almost been paid to defeat Lilith.

"But I didn't, Sam. Thanks to you and Alec and Bobby," Dean insisted, knew he owed the three men, owed his family his life.

But Sam wasn't willing to just accept Dean's gratitude, not without giving major credit where it was due. "And because you didn't give up, Dean. You fought to stay alive every step of the way. You didn't go because I asked you to stay, because I needed you, because I needed my big brother to have my back." He was determined to make Dean realize that it was his own strength that saw them through this, that was the real winning goal.

Dean gave a timid smirk. "I never really wanted to leave you, Sam. You or Alec. I just didn't have many options."

"I know," Sam softly acknowledged, warm eyes meeting Dean's before resolve alighted in them. "So swear to me that you won't put your life on the line like this ever again. Tell me that you realize that my life isn't more valuable to you than yours is to me. That you know now that I won't be alright without you, if you go and get yourself killed being some hero …or trying to save me.'

"Sam …" Dean began to protest, couldn't bring himself to make a false statement, not to Sam, not after all they had come through, survived.

Sensing Dean's denial, Sam cut in, his tone of steel, "I would sacrifice my life…my soul for you in a heartbeat, Dean. I will if I have to. Remember that before you ever try and give away what doesn't just belong to you, belongs to me and Alec and Bobby too. After all, we fought for your life, for your soul. We kind of earned our share of both."

"Sam, I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me," Dean said, meant it, wholly. His life's mission had always been about saving Sam, protecting Sam, about making sure Sam didn't have to make the sacrifices in life that he had.

Knowing what Dean's comeback would be before he spoke the words, Sam's response was instantaneous, sharp and unyielding. "Tough. We're brothers and that's how things are. If your head is on the chopping block, than so is mine. And nothing you say is going to change my mind, Dean. Ever."

Seeing the determination in Sam's eyes, hearing the steel in his brother's tone, Dean exhaled in defeat. He had gone enough rounds with Sam in the past months to come to accept that this was one argument he wasn't going to win, that his big brother status had no effect on the outcome. "Crap.." he sighed, saw that Sam was poised at his side, waiting for either the argument to continue or for him to fold. He saw also what Sam probably didn't want him to see: dread. And he understood that dread, had it coiling in his own gut. The dread that they would forever be at odds, that this debate over who protected who would rage on forever now that the natural order had been skewed, that he had skewed it when he had sold his soul. When his actions had made Sam contemplate doing anything to spare him that fate.

Accepting that he had screwed up their balance, had maybe changed their roles forever, Dean knew just as certainly that it was his problem to correct. "Yeah..guess so," he grumbled, saw the tension slip from Sam, the dread melt to affection. But his next words were all big brother order, "But don't rub off on Alec."

Feeling as if some chasm between him and Dean had been bridged, Sam couldn't fight the cocky smirk from making an appearance. "Can't teach someone what they already know."

"Really?" Dean nearly whined, hoped Sam was teasing him in this at least. But when Sam's smirk turned into a smile, he grumbled, "Ah crap." Because one little brother usurping his protection duty was one thing…but two?! It was not fair. Talk about ganging up on a guy.

Dean's look of dejection didn't garner one ounce of pity from Sam. Dean might look like he was conceding his protective role, might even think he was, but Sam knew his brother would react instinctively to protect him, to protect Alec. That it would take some time and head bashing to dull that instinct in Dean. Knew that he could never eliminate it, truly didn't want to. He just needed Dean to think a moment before he reacted, to take in his own health, his own life into the calculations before he did his whole big-brother-to-the-rescue thing. "Yup, from here on out if you get reckless, it's going to be two against one. And I'm not above getting Bobby involved if I have to. So you better save your strength. You're going to lose against us but I don't want any whining about you not being at your top form when you do."

"You're all heart," Dean muttered with poor sportsmanship, could just imagine the lectures to come. The berating he would get when he did what came naturally to him: protected the ones he loved. When he simply was being what he was born to be: a big brother.

Sam smirked at his brother's defeatist tone but knew his brother well enough to know it was an act, that Dean was rarely defeated so easily. "As a consolation prize, I'll heat up some broth for you," he offered as he stood up, but Dean's entreaty stopped him.

"Wait, Sam." Dean watched Sam halt. He saw the apprehension in Sam's eyes, saw also his brother's willingness to do anything he asked of him.

Wondering what was coming next, Sam nearly wheezed. "Yeah. " He felt like his breath was being courted off in his chest until Dean's tender smile made his heart clench.

"Happy birthday, Sam," Dean warmly said, corrected the unforgivable oversight he had realized while he was sleeping away the hours. He was rewarded with a startled blush on Sam's cheeks. Berating himself for being so self-centered before to not realize it was Sam's birthday, that he should have said that yesterday…or whenever it was that he had ended the day being the hell hound snack, he stammered, "Sorry it's late. I didn't get you anything…."

"Yes, you did, Dean," Sam refuted immediately, eyes welling as they locked with Dean's, voice catching. "You didn't leave me. That's the best gift I ever got."

Touched at Sam's sentiment, Dean fell silent for a moment, had to get his own throat back into working condition. "If I knew you were that cheap, I wouldn't have wasted my gambling stash for those tickets to that museum exhibit when you were 16."

Sam gave a bark of quiet laughter. "Yeah, just think, you wouldn't have had to go with me and be bored out of your mind and refrain from making all those smart aleck comments I know were running through your head the whole day." But his heart swelled at the memories, at the kindness Dean had shown him, not only in getting him the tickets but making sure he had a good time…even if it killed him being there.

"All that suffering…for nothing," Dean drawled dramatically, shook his head but his eyes told Sam he wouldn't undo it, wouldn't undo anything he had ever done for Sam.

"Wasn't for nothing. That was my favorite birthday gift before this one. Your track record's still impressive, " Sam admitted, a tender smile turning up his lips to back up the claim.

Pulling a cocky smile onto his pale features, Dean said, "I'm all about being impressive." His comment, however, didn't earn him a disgusted look from Sam, instead his brother's features clouded over again. When Sam reclaimed a seat and wouldn't look at him, he sighed, "Sam, whatever's going through that freaky big head of yours, get this straight: This wasn't your fault, any of it."

Knowing that Dean would never allow him to shoulder any of the guilt, the blame, Sam countered, "That's not what I was thinking about." Moving his gaze from his hands to Dean's face, he spoke, found his voice was as raw as his emotions. "You shouldn't have to nearly die before I tell you this…."

Figuring out where Sam was headed, Dean intervened, "Sam you don't have to…"

"Maybe I want to. Maybe I _need_ to," Sam confessed, found his eyes shining as they fixed on his brother, on his living, breathing brother. "I almost lost you for good and there's nothing worse than that thought. Nothing."

Regret washed over Dean. "Sorry for …"

"Don't apologize for saving my life Dean, for almost losing yours. Just .." Sam shook his head, met Dean's look head on before he spoke the next words, the words that should have come as naturally as the emotions they revealed did. "You're my brother, Dean, and I love you."

Instead of a groan at the voiced sentiment, Dean blushed and looked away from his brother a moment to get his composure together.

Letting the silence fall, Sam knew that Dean wasn't disgusted with his confession, was instead almost embarrassed by it, like it should not have been said, should not be true. '_Stupid jerk still doesn't realize what he's worth. But he will even if I have to tell him every day. Even if I have to draft Alec into my scheme.'_

Clearing his throat nervously, Dean raised his head, saw that Sam was waiting for him, his eyes kind not impatient. "I know that, Sam. The whole, saving-my-life, going-up-against-Lilith thing told me that. Not like I didn't know it before…"

"You should know it, you jerk," Sam smirked, laughed at the scowl Dean shot him at his name calling. There was love in the look he bestowed on Dean, like there had been since they were kids. When he was the one who had to look up to see his big brother's face, when he counted on his brother to take care of him, had faith that his brother wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. Not much had changed in the twenty some years since…except he had grown taller than Dean.

"And I…you.. know ," Dean hesitantly drawled out, found by Sam's raised eyebrow expression that he wasn't going to help him with this. Exhaling, he said almost begrudgingly, "I love you too, Sam."

"I know," Dean's little brother smugly returned before he corrected, "and it's _Sammy_. Now before you lead us into another chick flick moment…."

"Me?!" Dean protested, his agitation at the false allegation causing him to try and sit up only to again have Sam pin him back to the bed. At the mercy of Sam's temporarily greater strength, he settled for sending Sam a heated glare.

Reading in his brother's glare that Dean wasn't going to try and escape again, Sam withdrew his hand from Dean. "We have to talk about something serious," he quietly began, felt a momentary pang of guilt when worry creased Dean's brow. "How do you get blood stains out of the Impala's interior? I already tried peroxide," but he couldn't keep the smile off his face at his deception or stifle his laughter as Dean's worry morphed to promised retribution.

"Right, sure you did. You value your life better than to do that to my baby…." Dean growled, already planning his payback on Sam's joke with relish. His brother underestimated him if he thought a small matter like not being strong enough to even crawl out of bed meant he was easy prey for his pranks.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading this chapter! As I said, I'm struggling to put the finishing touches on the final chapter but my goal is to have it posted before September.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	21. Chapter 21

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: I've decided that I'm not quite ready to seal up this AU – it's just been too much fun. So, like so many times before, I pressing on with more chapters. And before I rewrite this chapter for the twentieth time, I'm just turning it over for your reviews and crossing my fingers that it doesn't stink.

Thanks so much to Rei6 for your insight and suggestions! Both helped me to go from not having enough material to finish the story to having more than a chapter could hold!

Thanks also for every review! Every one encourages me to keep writing and pushes me to keep struggling to get these characters down right.

I also wanted to say how honored I am whenever someone puts this story as a favorite. I'm hoping that when the final 'the end' comes you still want it as a favorite.

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Chapter 21

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"We have to talk about something serious," Sam quietly began, felt a momentary pang of guilt when worry creased Dean's brow. "How do you get blood stains out of the Impala's interior? I already tried peroxide," but he couldn't keep the smile off his face at his deception or stifle his laughter as Dean's worry morphed to promised retribution.

"Right, sure you did. You value your life better than to do that to my baby…." Dean growled, already planning his payback on Sam's joke with relish.

Then the motel door began opening, abruptly broke off their conversation. Standing up and rigidly positioning himself in front of Dean, Sam reached to the back of his waistband. Shifting on his feet, drawing closer to his vulnerable brother, he silently vowed that nothing would get past him, would have the chance to take his brother from him. Not ever again.

Surprised at Sam's protective stance in front of him, Dean's eyes widened as he saw what Sam was reaching for under his shirt: Ruby's knife. Watched as Sam's hand curled around the knife's handle in a white knuckled grip. Then his attention was drawn again to the door as it swung open.

Entering the motel room, Bobby and Alec came up short as both Sam and Dean's eyes lethally targeted them. Knew that, to further advance into the room without Sam's permission, would be to risk life and limb.

"Crap, you scared me!" Sam exhaled, his protective stance melting away to shoulder bowing relief. "Next time give me a heads up!" he sharply ordered, hand slipping free of the knife and heart starting to find its rhythm again. Remembered then that it was no longer just him and Dean against the world, that Alec and Bobby, they were on their side, would stand with them, had proven that they would even die with them. That their family had truly grown to four.

"What, like a password?" Alec smirked, stepping fully into the room after Sam noticeably went off his full alert protective mode. "I know, 'red rover'? Or maybe 'ollie ollie oxen free'?" he suggested wryly, eyebrows raised in question, enjoyed the frustrated glare Sam leveled at him.

Approaching Dean's bed, Bobby smiled but his words were a grouse, "Well, the princess is finally awake." His tone, however, did nothing to hide his affection for Dean or his joy at seeing the kid in the bed looking so much better than he had even hours ago.

"Bite…" Dean began but, when Sam's head swung his way with a look of warning, he heeded his brother's order to band that particular phrase from his vocabulary. "Eat me," he amended, with as much "bite" as he could muster.

"Speaking of eating, I'll make you some broth," Sam announced, crossing over toward the kitchen.

"I'll do it. Your cooking stinks," Alec grumbled, beating Sam to the small kitchenette.

"I'm going to use the microwave!" Sam return, voice spiking with his indignation.

"Yeah, which amazes me how you can still screw up food," Alec shot back, smirked when Sam playfully plowed his shoulder into his.

Ignoring his brothers' antics, Dean focused on Bobby, had believed Sam when he said the older man was alright but seeing for himself squashed that small tendril of fear that had refused to die. "I was worried about you," the words escaping him before he could remind himself that they were supposed to go unsaid. Cursing the morphine for loosening his tongue, he braced himself to wade through Bobby's reaction to his truthfulness.

"Worried about me?" Bobby reiterated, voice rising as his brow creased. "I wasn't the one who was about to cross over to the B side."

"Yeah but I was worried about your old heart going out on you with all the excitement," Dean shot back with a patronizing smile, proud of himself for deflecting his concern into a snarky barb.

"Well it didn't, no thanks to you and your stupid-behind pacts and reckless plans. If I have to start eating tofu burgers 'cause my heart's in trouble, then you're going to be eating them too, boy," Bobby shot back with artificial rancor.

Easily detecting Bobby's affection in the gruff words, Dean retorted back with a shake of his head, "Sorry Bobby but if you go the tofu way, you're on your own. My loyalty has its limits."

"You're all heart," Bobby grumbled but there was light shining in his eyes as they met Dean's. Both knew that, their loyalty to each other hadn't ever met a line it wouldn't cross.

"Hey, Bobby," Sam called, snagging the older man's attention from Dean. "Since Alec's got the whole broth thing handled, why don't we do a little scouting of the area, check for some signs."

"Sam," Dean drawled in warning, his eyes meeting Sam's, hating the idea of Sam or Bobby being in danger without him there to have their backs. Just because his body wasn't running at 100% didn't mean his protective instincts weren't.

Sam's eyes softened as they met his brother's worried gaze, knew exactly what was going through his brother's head, what was always going through Dean's head: the mandate to protect the ones he loves. "We'll be fine, Dean. Bobby and I, we'll watch each other's backs," he gently but firmly assured, touched by Dean's loyalty even as he knew he had to settle Dean's fears or the fool would try to crawl out of bed and come along with them.

Looks flickering from Sam to Bobby and back to Sam, detecting the solemnity of Sam's pledge, Dean gruffly agreed, "Fine, but call and check in."

"What am I?! A newbie hunter?!" Bobby grumbled but at the look Dean leveled at him, which was half stern demand for capitulation and half imploring plead, he folded with ill grace. "Yeah, fine, _dad._ We'll call if we're not going to make curfew," he muttered, eyes boring into Dean's. '_Dang pain in the butt, Winchester. Treating me like I'm a teenager and I'm allowing it! Heck, I'll agree to just about anything the kid asks right now…just hope Dean doesn't figure that out.'_ But by Dean's gloating smile, Bobby knew it was probably too late on that wish.

With Dean's objections curtailed, though not smothered, Sam turned to Alec, found his little brother leaning against the countertop, amused smirk on his lips at the exchange he had witnessed between the three other men. '_Little jerk's gloating that he wasn't dragged into that battle,_' Sam surmised, his lips tightening with a tinge of frustration…and jealousy. Stepping closer, he breathed under his breath, "Oh, don't gloat too hard. You have to keep Dean in line and he's a _bear_ when he's healing up," he gloated himself, patting Alec on the chest condescendingly.

"Bears?" Alec gave a careless wave of dismissal of his hand and wore a cocky smile. "No problem. I'm partial to the animal kingdom, remember."

"Uh huh," Sam agreed noncommittally but there was a spark of bold humor in his eyes but it soon morphed into grim determination. "Well, just in case something besides one of your far removed _relations_ comes calling…" he said, pulling Ruby's knife from his waist and holding it out to Alec. He wasn't prepared to watch Alec flinch at even the sight of the proffered weapon. "What?" he breathed out in worry, other hand reaching for Alec's shoulder.

The knife. Ruby's knife. It was the last thing on _earth_ Alec wanted to touch: The knife that Dean had asked him to use on him if Lilith won. A shiver coursed through him even as Sam's hand landed on his shoulder, anchored him to the here and now.

Afraid that Alec would skitter away from him if he didn't physically stop him, Sam crushed the fabric of his brother's shirt in his hand. "Alec?!" he called out in alarm, stepping closer to the younger man, bending his head down to try and catch Alec's eyes, eyes that were transfixed on the knife he held in his other hand.

Having silently watched his brothers' exchange but unable to hear their words until Sam's worried utterance of their little brother's name, Dean called out, "What's wrong?" muscles tensing and already determined to climb out of the bed if he had to, if his brothers needed his help.

In synch, Sam and Alec's heads swiveled to Dean and they chorused with conviction, "Nothing." Both knowing just how reckless and determined Dean could be if he thought either of them were in danger, needed his help.

"Yeah, well something's going on," Dean insisted, studying the body language of his brothers for whatever secrets they were keeping from him in some misguided effort to protect him.

Knowing that his gutless behavior wasn't helping Dean or Sam, Alec met Dean's eyes, joked, "Just conducting the 'royal bestowing of the magic knife' ceremony. You know how Sam's a stickler for ceremonial correctness," forcing lightness in his tone though his gut was clenched with dread. Reaching out, he wrapped shaking fingers around the handle of the knife. Was surprised, _sickened_ that something he considered evil could fit so well into his grasp, like it was designed to be welded by hands well instructed in the art of killing. His hands.

Judging Sam and Bobby's roadtrip as a foray deep into enemy territory, Dean protested Sam's surrender of the knife, "No, Sam. If you're going back into that town, you should take the knife. Alec and I are fine here." But the look his brother shot to him was stubborn resolve.

'_But fine isn't safe_,' Sam wanted to refute, not swayed by Dean's declaration or all that encouraged by Alec's unsettling reaction to the knife. Certain by the scowl on Dean's face that his brother knew he wasn't going to budge on this, he turned his full focus onto Alec, found his little brother was still staring down at the knife, was mesmerized by the weapon. Giving the shoulder under his hand a squeeze, he gently asked, "Hey, you alright?"

Fearing that his deepest emotions was observable, Alec whipped his head up, offered up a smile and said, "I'm always alright," falling back onto tried and true deflection mechanisms. But knew his efforts had backfired when Sam's look sharpened with concern. For just a moment he had forgotten that Sam knew him, wouldn't be fluffed off like so many others had been. Others who hadn't bothered to read the pain beneath his false reassurances. '_Come on, Alec! Step up your game!_" he internally chastised himself. Struggled to find the right tone, the right words to convince Sam that he could be relied upon, wasn't going to flake out when Dean needed him to have his back…and his front. Responding to Sam's seriousness with his own, he fervently vowed, "Nothing will get past me. I swear, Sam," needing Sam to trust him, his fingers unconsciously flexing against the handle of the knife.

Sam was surprised to see the entreaty in Alec's eyes, never guessed that Alec would misconstrue his concern for him as mistrust. "Alec, that's not what I'm worried about. You seem…shook up."

Forcing the tension from his shoulders, Alec gave a rueful shrug and ran a hand over his mouth. "Me, shook up?" he lightly scoffed with a laugh. "Why would I be, right? Dean almost _died_, you and Bobby are going on a reconnaissance mission where Lilith established her own little community on earth and the only worthwhile weapon we have in this war is this little old knife," he tallied, waving the knife carelessly in the air to prove his point. '_And you just handed the knife off to me…which is almost as bad as trusting me to keep Dean safe when he's so vulnerable_,' he left unsaid, but honestly didn't want to relinquish his guard duty of Dean, would fight Sam tooth and nail if he tried to take that honor away from him.

"Yeah," Sam returned with his own brand of bitter, exhausted laughter, "no reason for us to be on edge, right? Dean would say it's just another day at the office..an extremely dangerous day at the office." Encouraged by Alec's smirk, he couldn't help but ask, "So, you're cool with this?"

"Yeah, Sam. I'm good," Alec reassured, even as the knife felt like it was singeing his hand and he could feel his mental barriers erode the longer he held the weapon, the weapon that he almost used on Dean.

Alec sounded so like Dean when he was lying that Sam stilled. Earning a "What?" from Alec, he shook his head in dismissal. "Alright, we'll check in with you." Receiving a nod from Alec, he turned to Bobby. "Ready?"

"Been ready," Bobby shot back and headed for the door.

For a moment, Sam hesistated, hadn't expected it to be this hard, to leave Dean's side after being so close to losing him. Eyes resting on Dean, he wanted to say something but Dean beat him to it, like always, Mr. No Chick Flick moments himself.

"Be careful, Sammy," Dean ordered, voice gruff and tender at the same time, a contradiction that was uniquely his.

"Be a good boy and listen to Alec," Sam ordered with a twist of his lips, was rewarded with a grumbled, "Ah, shut up." Sharing a smile with Alec, he stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut, lingered there a moment even as he saw Bobby sitting in his car, hands raised and expression saying 'what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?' With a clench of his jaw, he let his hand slip free of the door knob and he stalked for the car, encouraging himself with the thought that the sooner he left the sooner he would get back.

SNDASNDASNDA

At Sam's departure, Alec's eyes dropped again to the knife in his grip, to the weapon he had vowed he would use to kill his own _brother_ to ensure Dean didn't go to Hell. Thought it was ironic that a _knife_ was yet again deemed to be his weapon of choice to kill his own kind, kill his _family_. But this knife, it wasn't the run of the mill like White's knife had been when he made his deal to save his own skin. No, instinctively he knew that, out of all the weapons he had ever wielded, this one was the most powerful…and the most deadly of them all. Could kill monsters and brothers alike, could destroy evil and champion good, all in one fell swoop. Was both killer and savior, alike. '_But only for someone not too gutless to use it_,' he miserably thought, remembered vividly the moment that the decision was before him, the _knife_ was before him. And he couldn't bring himself to even _touch_ the knife, to even _contemplate_ fulfilling his vow to Dean. Knew that he would have to let Dean go to Hell before he ever sentenced his brother's _soul_ to death. Couldn't. Loved Dean too much…loved himself too much to make that kind of sacrifice.

The ding of the microwave startled him out of his stupor, had him looking up, finding Dean's worried eyes on him. Determinedly slipping the knife into his waist band, he drudged up a smile, "Lunch is served." Then he busied himself with getting the broth out of the microwave, poured the steaming liquid into a cup and crossed the room. Placing the cup on the night stand, he almost laughed as Dean's eyes tracked the soup, not with anticipation or hunger but warily, as if it were something that had yet to be determined if it were friend or foe. "You think you'll be OK sitting up for awhile?" he asked, voice gentle as he looked to Dean, starkly noted that, besides lying flat out on his back, being paler than some of the ghosts he had met and still hooked up to oxygen and morphine, Dean wasn't even moving his head unless it was absolutely necessary. Which told him how weak and in pain Dean was in more ways than any medical tests ever could.

"Yeah," Dean replied in frustrated forcefulness. Then, in the next breath, he was shifting his arms back so his elbows were braced against the mattress, intending to lever himself upright, regardless that he had to clamp his jaw tight against a moan of pain at the slight movement he had already initiated. But Alec's hand splayed across his collarbone arrested his diminutive motion, held him flush against the mattress with its light but immovable presence. Eyes finding Alec's, he was going to grumble about the obstacle to his progress but Alec spoke first.

"Hold up. I put a lot of time and love into your stitches," Alec stated with a light laugh, his cocky smile designed to make the word 'love' come off as nonchalant, a common word he bandied about, wasn't used specifically in this instance any more than he used it about …say…steak. "I'm not real interested in doing a patch job, ruining another of my shirts with your blood."

Letting the fight go out of him and willingly sinking back into the softness of the mattress, Dean exhaled, "Yeah, we wouldn't want my pain to affect your wardrobe." But he instantly regretted the use of the word "pain" when he saw that Alec was considering reaching for his morphine IV switch. "So some help getting up would be nice, you know, before the yummy broth is cold," he snarked, wanted to wipe the worry out of Alec's eyes, to put some kind of normalcy between them. Decided a little bit of a ramble was in order when Alec eyes still harbored vulnerability. "Course it will be _awesome_ broth because…man you're quite the cook. I mean the way you put things in the _microwave_…its revolutionary."

Accepting Dean's intent to downplay his pain and grateful Dean was allowing his help, Alec grabbed the other bed pillow. Standing over Dean, pillow held in front of him , he taunted with a devious grin, "Alright, I can either shut you up or prop you up. Your choice?"

"How long I got to decide?" Dean retorted, forcing a smirk onto his lips as his look slipped up to meet Alec's.

Not a beat later, Alec announced, "Time's up," as he claimed a seat by his brother's hip. But he met Dean's eyes, waited until he saw acquiescence in the green depths before he reached across Dean. Carefully, he slid his right hand under Dean's waist, his eyes locked with Dean's all the while, gauging his brother's pain at the small jostling. The tightening around Dean's eyes was the only outward proof Alec detected that his touch hurt his brother. "You good?"

"Yeah," Dean answered but his voice was hoarse, contradicted his words. "Keep going," he encouraged, wanted Alec to know he had his trust. Wanted to prove to himself that he could sit upright, wasn't half dead like he felt.

Knowing that Dean wasn't good, that the motion was going to hurt his brother, Alec forced himself to lean forward and slid his arm up from his brother's waist to the middle of his back. Felt the sharp intake of Dean's breath and his brother's body arch in his one armed grasp. Gritting his teeth, he levered Dean off the mattress. Shoving the pillow behind Dean's back, he tried to shut out Dean's groan of agony, to ignore the tremble and heat in his brother's wounded body resting against his chest. Then, though the pillows were in place, he drew his brother more tightly to him, rested his chin momentarily on Dean's shoulder before he settled Dean back onto the pillows, found himself reluctant to pull back, to abandon Dean to his solitary pain. Trailing his hand along Dean's back and onto his arm, he then forced himself to slide his touch free of his brother, kept his eyes averted hoping that Dean couldn't detect his turmoil of emotion. Didn't see how hard it was, letting go, even in something as small as physical contact. Didn't realize just how impossible it would have been to actually let him die?! How killing him would have been beyond impossible. Was inconceivable.

Eyes averted from his brother's sharp, knowing gaze, he reached for the broth, was relieved that the heat still emanated through the glass. Knowing that Dean's "upright" position was more a 20% angle, he snagged the straw out of his take out cup and dropped it into the broth. "Swapping some spit shouldn't bother you since we're blood brothers," he said as if he expected Dean to make a protest at the communal straw idea. But when he turned back to his brother, Dean didn't make one sound of protest, was watching him silently, almost listlessly, a sheen of sweat starting to appear on his face and a pained, dullness gathering in his eyes. With panic, Alec carelessly sat the glass down, sloshing the broth onto the nightstand before bolting to the bathroom.

Though everything was going hazy, Dean knew one thing: Alec had left. Alec had been at his side a moment ago and now he wasn't. Opening his mouth to call for the younger man, he found his mouth was impossibly dry, caused his little brother's name to come out as a whispered entreaty, "Alec?"

Running back to Dean's side in time to hear his brother's nearly inaudible call for him, Alec's heart twisted and he softly reassured, "I'm here, Dean. I'm here." Sinking down on the bed beside Dean, he tenderly began running the wet, cold washcloth over Dean's forehead and down his face, was careful to not dislodge the oxygen tubing. "Sorry I shouldn't have moved you, or should have moved you slower..or something," he apologized hurriedly, hating that, instead of helping Dean feel better, he had made things worse. Wished Sam had been there, had not trusted him to do this. Not if he was going to fail at it. "Just take some deep breaths and let yourself get adjusted to the new position," he breathlessly instructed, stroking the cloth down Dean's cheeks, feeling sick at the clamminess of his brother's almost translucent skin.

Dean closed his eyes, trusted that, though he couldn't see Alec, his brother was still there, wasn't going anywhere, his physical touch proof of that. He mumbled, "Not your fault." Swallowed to marshal more saliva in his mouth. "I can't drink lying down."

"You should be in a hospital," Alec stated, grief and self reprimand in his voice. "I'm the one that said you didn't need a hospital, that I could save you when doctors couldn't."

"Results are in," Dean began and then he opened his eyes, wanted Alec to see that he didn't lay blame on him but gratitude. "You were right. You could say I'm 'living proof' of that."

Alec couldn't help but smirk and shake his head at his stubborn brother's sense of humor, at the smile Dean was trying to offer though he was bone white, had not an ounce of energy to spare on useless gestures. '_Guess he doesn't think it's useless, offering absolution to me. Crap, I don't deserve him or Sam but I'm not complaining. Far from it.' _"If you didn't want to drink the broth, all you had to do was say no. Manticore taught me the 'just say no' policies. You didn't have to nearly faint on me."

Dean's pale face scrunched up in hostile objection, "I didn't _faint._"

"So says you," Alec taunted back, purposefully began dabbing dramatically at Dean's face. He gave a laugh when Dean raised a weak hand to push his hand away. "And this is not getting you out of eating."

"Not hungry," Dean mumbled, sounding like a petulant child refusing to take his medicine.

"Well too bad. I slaved in that kitchen and you're not making my efforts go to waste," Alec joked, raising the glass and positioning the straw so that it was within easy reach for Dean. But when Dean leveled a look of almost pleading at him, he quietly implored, "You really need to eat something, Dean. Even if it's just broth."

Surrendering more because of the worry rolling off of Alec than any medical reasons his brother was offering, Dean grumbled, "Fine, I'll have some of the stupid broth." But he still shot Alec a long suffering look of '_what I do for you'_ before he took a sip from the straw. It was a pleasant surprise that the broth went down smoothly, soothed his dry throat and settled warmly into his stomach.

The broth, however, couldn't be attributed for the warmth in his heart. No, that had all to do with the affectionate, relieved look in Alec's eyes and the fact that his brother stayed at his side even after the broth was gone, continued to slip the washcloth over his too hot skin even after the cloth warmed to room temperature. And no medic training 101 stuff could give him peace like he had right then, peace that was allowing him to close his eyes willingly, to know irrefutably that he wasn't alone, wasn't going to awake in Hell.

Dean mumbled, "Wake me when Sam calls," when his eyes got too heavy, when he knew the last tendrils of fight to stay away was leaving him.

"Sure," Alec agreed softly, even as he knew it was a lie. That the look Sam had sent to him before he left the room was a mandate to see to Dean's well being above anything else and he wasn't going to fail in that. "Just get some rest. I've got your back." Saw the trust in Dean's eyes as clearly as if his brother had declared it aloud for all the world to know.

With Alec's quiet but solemn oath dissipating his last holdout against sleep, Dean closed his eyes and his last conscious thought was about how wrong he had been. Because, Ruby's knife? It hadn't been his last hope for staying out of hell like he thought it was. His last hope was Alec, was Sam, was Bobby…was love. And being proven wrong, it had never felt so right before.

When Dean's breathing eased into sleep, Alec carefully slid the second pillow from under Dean's head but couldn't force himself to leave Dean's side, not just yet. Sat there and watched Dean sleep and wondered what he would have to pay for feeling so happy, for being so blessed in that moment, because in his experience, things like that came at a cost. '_I'll pay any cost fate can cook up…long as I have my family._' But a part of him couldn't help but worry that Dean would find out that he was going to let him go to Hell, that he was never going to use the knife on him, that he was never going to keep his promise to him. Ever. And then it was like a mantra of prayer, '_don't let him find out, don't let him find out, don't let him find out_.' Because whoever had said family was everything was right and, yeah, he had lived with nothing for most of his life but he couldn't do it again, would rather die himself than be without his family.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Awaking to the clamoring of his bladder and to darkness, Dean found himself cursing Alec a little for the broth his little brother had practically force fed to him. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he could make out the shadow of the chair by his bed that was surprisingly empty, could see that the other bed was occupied by a lithe frame that could only be Alec's. Rolling his head right, his attention was snagged by the meager slice of light slipping out from under the closed bathroom door. Felt himself relax as his other brother was accounted for. But he couldn't pull his eyes from the door until it swung open, until he saw Sam silhouetted in the doorway, had physical proof that Sam had returned from his reconnaissance mission, unscathed. He wasn't surprised that Sam's eyes seemingly met his across the dark room's expansion. Having shared thousands of motel rooms and been on hundreds of night hunts together, they had honed the ability to recognize each other's presence, even moods without the benefit of sight. Sure, it wasn't like having Alec's heightened senses but it had proven to be enough of an advantage to help them survive time and time again…and to navigate through the pitfalls of their relationship throughout the years.

"Hey, you alright?" Sam asked, his voice quiet but blatantly gentle as he crossed over to Dean's bed and crouched down to be eye level with his brother, his hand unconsciously wrapping around Dean's wrist. It was then that Sam realized that he had slipped into the habit of touching Dean, of establishing some physical connection to his brother, as if he needed some tangible proof that his brother was alive, was with him. The revelation should have made him release Dean, instead his grip became more possessive.

"How's the town?" Dean side stepped Sam's real question, knew by the darkness of the room that it had to have been many hours since Sam and Bobby had left for their scouting mission. Understood too that Alec had not wakened him when Sam had called to check in, and neither had Sam when he returned. '_Great, two little brothers who don't listen to a thing I tell them_.'

Realizing that if he wanted to get to Dean's real issue, he would have to navigate through Dean's barriers, Sam answered his brother's question, truthfully. "It's a ghost town in that neighborhood," he sighed, felt guilty and shaken by the findings. "Even the bodies we hid out of sight are gone."

"Croatoan?" Dean lowly supplied, fought off a shiver at the memories of a whole town just….gone.

Sam gave a scoffing, bitter laugh, "Yeah, seems like it." Shaking his head, he returned to his initial concern: Dean. "So why are you awake?"

"Need to take a leak," Dean glibly announced, forcing a miserable smile to make a flickering appearance on his face before his look skittered away from Sam's worried, kind look. Internally Dean railed against the need to make his statement a plea for assistance, hated that his voice was so hoarse, broadcasted his exhaustion, though he had just awoken, bitterly despised how pathetically weak he was at the moment, that he was nearly helpless. Because it was wrong, on so many levels, that he needed help holding a stupid water glass or slurping down some broth, that he couldn't roll over, that he wouldn't be able to even get to the john without someone holding his hand. Unless, of course, crawling to the bathroom was an option.

Easily reading Dean's humiliation, disgust, and frustration at needing help, Sam felt a lump form in his throat. Fervently he wished he knew what words to say. Wished that he could tell Dean that this didn't put one dent in the respect he had for him, didn't mar his belief that his big brother was the strongest person he had ever known. He would say it all if only Dean would _believe_ him, know it was the truth. Wouldn't think he was just patronizing him because he wasn't able to act bulletproof at the moment, had been proven to be vulnerable…human.

But Sam didn't have an opportunity to speak in the lull, Alec broke the silence instead.

"What? What's wrong?" Alec groggily asked of the room at large, struggling to get his eyes open, to assess the threat to Dean, to Sam, to his family. Dean's voice having worked like a trigger, getting his heart thudding in his chest, his adrenaline flowing and his muscles coiling for action, to take on anything that dared to threaten what he had fought so hard to keep.

Dean sighed. '_So much for this not turning into a big deal_.' "Nothing's wrong. Go back to sleep, Alec," he ordered in that gentle coaxing tone he had used on child Sam, seemingly a thousand years ago.

But Alec was not Sam, had not grown up with someone taking care of him, lovingly. With someone seeking to protect him when something in the dark scared him. No, Alec had been taught that fear was a weakness he couldn't afford, darkness had its usefulness and that he was to be more concerned with protecting others, protecting _assets_ than seeking protection himself. And Alec might be willing to argue the first two decrees but never the last, not since his greatest assets had turned out to be his brothers.

Shifting up on his elbow, his eyes making out Sam crouching by Dean's bed, Alec tersely questioned, "Sam?" unable to keep the apprehension out of his tone anymore than he could fight his frustration and panic at not being able to see Dean's face for himself, not with Sam crouched where he was. Because believing Dean's declaration that nothing was wrong?! Yeah, right, wasn't happening. Especially not after witnessing first hand a few hours ago how vulnerable Dean was, how broken his brother's body still was.

"Everything's fine, Alec," Sam assured, eyes not leaving Dean's profile, felt a smile tug up his lips when Dean gave an eye roll at Alec's over protectiveness. Dean's reaction, in a bizarre way, quieted his worry that Dean didn't actually want his help, would instead have preferred Alec's or Bobby's or even some stranger's help over his.

Trusting Sam, Alec felt the clench in his heart begin to loosen. Dropping his line of questioning, he asked instead, "Time is it?"

"'Bout 6," Sam provided, came to a stand and turned around, watched as Alec yawned, stretched. But there was tautness in the younger man's motions, tension that only fled when his eyes traveled to the other bed, when Alec, with his enhanced senses, saw Dean's face.

Having taken a crash course on how to read each of his brothers' body language to measure their level of pain, to interpret every nuisance of his brothers' expression for what they wouldn't say, would vehemently deny, Alec determined that pain wasn't emanating off of Dean, that whatever had roused Dean from sleep, it couldn't be cured by painkillers. Thought that news both good and bad.

Eyes shifting to Sam's, Alec sought to read his brother's emotions, to figure out what unstable territory they might be traversing at the moment. Sam, taking pity on his cluelessness, gave a miniscule jerk of his chin toward the bathroom door. Instantly Alec's gut tightened, knew that, no matter how much pain it had caused Dean to simply be elevated in bed, getting Dean to the bathroom was going to hurt his brother worse, so much worse. Again, guilt assaulted him that they weren't better equipped, like a hospital would be, to help Dean to heal, to recover now that the worst had passed, that his brother was out of danger of dying. Wondered anew if he should have told Sam that Dean had nearly passed out early, if he shouldn't have insisted that they take Dean to a hospital so that he wouldn't be in unnecessary pain, wouldn't be humiliated by their inadequacy to shelter him from his own weakness. Hadn't mentioned Dean's weakness, had kept quiet because he had some stupid notion that he was sheltering Dean…even from Sam. But now it was clear: how wrong he had been to not tell Sam. Seeing the way Sam stood by Dean's bed, offering Dean support and protection, detecting the taunt emotions roiling off of Sam, it was reminiscent of the protective stance Sam had effected when he and Bobby walked into the room yesterday. Made Alec understand the vow that had been in Sam's eyes, a vow that said he would die before he would leave his brother's side. A vow that was still there, hadn't wavered, wouldn't waiver.

'_Sam's the very last person Dean needed sheltered from_. _But maybe Sam's right to shelter Dean from me_. _I'm the one who didn't keep my vow to Dean.'_ No, he had not kept his vow, not even after he came face to face with Dean lying on the floor, bloody, being torn apart, dying…and going to hell. And Ruby's knife was there for the taking. For his taking. '_I couldn't do it, I was never going to be able to do it.' _His growing fear that Dean would figure that out had kept him tossing and turning most of the night, was like a weight tied to his soul, dragging him further away from his brothers every in was getting clearer to him that by his actions…his _inaction,_ in a way, he had betrayed both of his brothers' trust.

Suddenly Alec needed to get out of the room, didn't want to be there when the love in his brothers' eyes for him shifted to disgust. "I should spot Bobby anyway," he announced as he climbed out of his bed, began rummaging around for his shoes. Acutely conscious of his brothers' presence, of being so close to them and knowing it might not last, that he might soon be unwelcome. It hurt him somewhere deep, in the soul the theologians couldn't decide if he even had.

Realizing that no one was getting any more sleep, Sam turned on the light on the nightstand between the beds. At the intrusion of light on his retinas, Dean clamped his eyes shut. Jerking his head left, Dean gave a disgruntle groan. Across the room, Sam watched as Alec located his shoes, slipped them on, hopping to keep his balance in the process, and then he headed for the door.

But as Alec reached for the door handle, he drew up short and shot a look over his shoulder at Sam, couldn't scamper away without making sure Sam hadn't changed his mind, didn't want his help after all. Couldn't throw away a chance to be with his brothers if they allowed it to him. Though there was apprehension in Sam's eyes, it didn't outshine the devotion Sam had for his brother, his need to be the one to help Dean, the awe that Dean, in his own way, was asking for his help. For a moment, Alec worried that Sam wasn't prepared for the level of help Dean would need, didn't realize how weak, vulnerable his brother was, that his own earlier omission of Dean's near collapse would have far reaching consequences. An omission he had made that he could admit wasn't all about sheltering Dean, was also about not letting Sam know he had hurt Dean.

Seeing by the worried crease in Alec's brow that Alec was on the verge of warning him how weak Dean was, how much help Dean would need, Sam pre-empted the eye opening lecture with two solemn words, "I know." Because he did know, knew Dean's body's limits probably better than his own, knew the scars Dean carried, inside and outside, also knew that Dean would protest, would rail, would fight him about being helped, about being coddled. Knew just as well that he wasn't going to back down, had nearly lost Dean, wasn't going to jeopardize his brother's _life_ over an issue of pride…his or Dean's.

Accepting Sam's words for the declaration they were, reading the sorrow yet determination in his brother's eyes, Alec gave Sam a small smile of encouragement then he slipped out the door, left Dean in Sam's capable, gentle care. Left his brothers alone to take care of each other, like they had done all their lives. Thought darkly maybe that was the way it should remain.

When the door clicked shut behind Alec, Sam draw in a breath, wished there was easier ways to do this, ways that wouldn't hurt Dean, physically or emotionally. Turning his focus back to Dean, he quietly asked, "You ready to do this?" almost hurting at the sight of Dean, still so pale, the white bandages on his arm and chest stark reminders of what wounds lay hidden from sight.

"No," came Dean's hoarse reply but he rolled his head right, squinted up at Sam amid the lamp light that was still too bright. Then he raised his hand, waited for Sam to grip it and help him up. But he hated that his arm felt anchored to the bed, like there was a weight wrapped around his wrist. Grimaced when his chest gave a spike of pain and he hadn't even _tried_ to sit up yet. Worried that he would have another repeat of earlier, go and _faint_ on Sam like he almost had on Alec.

The flash of pain in Dean's eyes and across his features, it was bitter conformation of what Sam already knew. Was proof that he couldn't waiver on his decision, no matter how pissed Dean got. So, instead of gripping Dean's extended hand, he took a step backwards, watched Dean's eyes track him with a look of almost betrayal. Breathed out, "No."

Dean's brow creased in confusion even as he shot back, "No what?"

Swallowing, Sam fortified his barriers, knew that he had to be the big brother at the moment, had to take care of Dean, whether Dean liked it or not, whether Dean would admit he needed him to take the lead or not. "No I'm not going to let you hurt yourself more by downplaying your injuries," his voice gentle instead of accusing. "This…" and he waved his hand above his brother's bandaged chest, "isn't a wound that you ignore or force your body to overcame by willpower alone, Dean. None of your wounds are superficial. They all need time…and treatment to heal."

Uncomfortable with Sam calling out his weakness and getting a feeling in his gut about where it was all leading, Dean put down the law, "I'm not using a bed pan, Sam. And I'm not going to a hospital," he refused, knew, after Alec's earlier words, that Alec and Sam would gang up on him about that if he gave them the opening, which he wasn't. "I'm healing up fine right here," he forcefully claimed, eyes blazing into Sam's.

Not surprised by Dean's declaration, Sam shifted on his feet, didn't want this to turn into a confrontation. But more than that, he didn't want to hurt Dean, embarrass him, make his brother feel weak in any of the ways that truly mattered. "Fine, no bed pan, no hospital," he agreed, voice pitched careful, gentle, wanting to concede to Dean's wishes where he could, while he could.

Dean didn't relax at Sam's capitulation to his demands, instead his eyes darkened with dread. "So this is where a 'but' comes into the conversation."

"Buuuuttt," Sam purposefully drawled out, a smile making a hit and run on his features before he dove off the deep end, "that means you have to let me and Alec and Bobby help you. Really help you."

Dean scowled. Yup, the churning in his gut was right, this wasn't going to be good. "Really help me how?"

"In a hospital you would be restricted to bed…to a catheter, you know that right?" Sam stated, hoping his solution sounded better after he pointed out the alternative. Watching Dean's face twist in distaste at the image and the topic, he pressed on with his advantage, "So having someone…_carry you_ to the bathroom is no big deal, right?" But Dean was shaking his head as soon as the word 'carry' was on the wind. "Yes, Dean."

"No! I can walk with some help…"

"Not my help," Sam heatedly shot back, willing to play hardball rather than put Dean's health at risk. "Not Alec's…or Bobby's. It's this way or no way."

"Get Alec in here," Dean growled, certain he could get help from his younger sibling since Sam was unwilling. He shifted on the bed, prepared to disprove Sam's assessment that he was too weak, had to be carried like a child.

'_So much for having Dean's trust' _Sam thought and it hurt, losing his brother's faith in him, made the idea of pulling Alec or Bobby in the room to deal with the situation appealing…and cowardly. Sometimes you hurt someone _because_ you loved them, gave them that reputed tough love so they wouldn't do something unthinkable, like leave you, like friggin' _die_ on you. "I'm not going anywhere…and neither are you, not without help."

And it was one of the hardest things Sam had ever consciously done: to stand there and watch his brother struggle, acutely aware that Dean was about to hurt himself. It was a small consolation to know that he had to let it happen to get through to Dean, had to make Dean see that he wasn't fine, wasn't alright, wasn't healed, couldn't do what he had always done: plow through the pain, make his body perform as if it weren't damaged. But more than that, he had to make Dean admit that he needed help. Had to get Dean to comprehend that he _wanted _to help him, him and Alec and Bobby. That they ached to help, to ensure that he didn't suffer any more, didn't endure pain that could be avoided.

Proud that he was doing it, was levering himself upright, was proving Sam wrong, Dean shifted higher off the bed, wasn't prepared for the white hot agony that tore through his chest. Renting the air with a sharp cry of pain, he collapsed back onto the bed which only erupted more shockwave of pain across his every nerve. And it was almost like he could feel the pressure of the hound on his chest, the powerful swipe of the merciless beast's claws turning his chest into confetti, could taste the metallic tang of death in his mouth again. Clamping his eyes shut, he wrapped his arms across his chest, coiling his hands into his own flesh to lessen the torture. But the agony, it didn't diminish, but burned hotter, stole breath and nearly consciousness from him. Trying to assuage the pain, he attempted to roll to his side, to curl into a ball and die if it could be proven to be less painful but the movement only ignited more pain in his chest and added chords of fiery pain from his torn up shoulder and leg.

Dean's cry went through Sam like a knife to the heart, had him flinching and hating himself for allowing Dean to hurt himself. And his hands ached to reach out to his brother, to offset his brother's agony that was almost a physical wave of energy in the room. Fists clenched at his side and eyes welling, he forced himself to not go to Dean, to stand stock still…keep Dean out of reach of his trembling hands. Had to bit his lip to not let a cry of his own escape when Dean pulled his legs up, attempted to curl in onto himself only to find even that reflex was denied him by his body. That was Sam's last straw. He was incapable of bearing a second more of Dean's agony, of his separation from his brother when Dean needed him, when he needed Dean. Giving a swipe at his drowning eyes, he cautiously claimed a seat on the bed by Dean's hip, tried his best not to shift bed or brother.

Eyes fixed on Dean's bloodless face and closed eyes, Sam reached a trembling hand out to Dean's hand, uncoiled his brother's grip from his exposed skin along his ribs and slid his own hand in as a replacement anchor against the pain. Instantly his hand was nearly crushed, told Sam how much pain his brother was in without words, without some doctor's scale of 1 to 10. "Dean," he choked out, sounding like he was the one in pain, was the one that needed help instead of being the one offering it. But seeing Dean in this level of agony, it broke him, had him seeking out the person who always made things alright for him when his world was imploding: his big brother.

Dean acknowledged his need by a murmured hum/grunt of sound that meant the equivalent of a patient 'what Sam?' or an encouraging, 'I'm in too much pain to speak but I still hear you little brother, we're still together.'

"I would have _carried _you out of Hell if I had too, Dean," Sam brokenly confessed, giving his brother's hand a squeeze, watched as Dean's eyelids fluttered open and his brother's pain hued eyes meet his, not with shame but sudden understanding…even gratitude. "So carrying you to the bathroom? To the car for a few days until you're stronger? It beats the alternative a billion times over," he solemnly said, voice hoarse as his emotions sought to choke him up. "Is a friggin' dance party …" he tagged on with a tremulous smile, was striving for lightness, wanted to make Dean see that it wasn't a big deal, wasn't anything he wouldn't do for him, that Dean hadn't done for him in the past…might be called upon to do for him in the future. Was just what brothers did for each other.

"You have a twisted idea… of what constitutes a _dance_ _party_," Dean teased back with a breathless tempo, voice still rough with pain. But there was acceptance in his eyes where there had been opposition, appreciation at his brother's offered assistance where there had been humiliation minutes before.

"My being twisted, it's your influence," Sam shot back with a quirk of his lips but apprehension marred the expression, as he put his right hand on top of Dean's knee, could feel the minuscule tremors still surging through his brother's body in reaction to the waves of pain. It made his next words catch in his throat even more then his words already were. "You won't heal overnight, Dean. No one's expecting you to." When Dean's eyes dropped from his own in shame, he swallowed hard, felt like whatever ground he had won in the debate he was losing. Removing his hand from Dean's knee he reached out, caught Dean's chin in his grip and tilted his brother's face up to meet his gaze. "You have nothing to prove, Dean! To me …or Alec or Bobby and even to yourself! You were preparing to be _die_ and you smiled at me Dean…" but his next words were nearly a sob, "You _smiled_…" because he _remembered_ standing in that room in New Harmony, remembered Dean's smiling at him, a smile that told him his brother loved him, tried to prove that Dean was alright with dying and he should be too. "You were lying on the floor bleeding out, _dying_ and you told me I did good, that I _saved_ you. That sound like acts of a _coward_ to you!? You willingly gave up your soul to save me, Dean! That sound like someone I should just turn my back on, would _ever_ turn my back on?! Someone I would abandon just because he's not invincible, is human enough to need some help once in a while from _me_? If you think that…" but he couldn't continue, broke off his words and shook his head. Letting his hand trail down from his brother's face to come to rest on his collarbone, he looked away for a moment, needed to regroup, hated that he was supposed to be strong for Dean and he was falling apart himself. "Dean, just…" he breathed out, entreated, uncertain how to ask Dean to just let him be his brother. Rising his eyes again to Dean's, he was surprised to see a shimmering of tears in Dean's eyes and a tremble in his chin, was proof that he was reaching Dean, getting it through his brother's thick skull that no one thought he was weak, a coward, not even if he had to carry him the rest of his life.

And Dean got it, saw what Sam was trying to tell him. That what was between them, what Sam was asking of him, needed from him, it wasn't about strength or weakness but was about love, about taking care of the people you loved, about doing anything for them, willingly, even gladly. Even if that meant carting their pathetic butts to the bathroom. "So am I looking at a refund on Alec's defective super blood or what?" he asked, striving for lightness, wanted humor to replace the tense emotions in the room, was rewarded with Sam's eyes lighting up with indignation.

"Defective?!" Sam sputtered, sitting more upright at the outrageous slam. "You would be dead without his 'super' blood. That or you would be a vegetable lying in some…" but seeing the smile growing on Dean's pale features, he cut himself off grumbled, "Jerk," with affection as he realized that he had played right into Dean's hands. That his brother was purposefully taunting him.

Shoving the covers off himself, hating that it felt like he was moving boulders instead of thin sheets, Dean was relieved that he was clad in boxers still because he had some pride left to guard. "Come on, if you wait any longer to help me to the bathroom, this argument will be for nothing," he grumbled, hand reaching for the IV still tethered to his hand. He wasn't all that surprised when his actions were stalled by Sam's grip.

"Let me do that," Sam groused, gently shoving Dean's hand aside, hiding his relief that Dean was agreeing to his help, wasn't going to make him force the issue, be the bad guy. Slowly he withdrew the needle and deftly replaced it with a sterile pad that he taped to his brother's flesh. Focusing back on his brother's face, he watched as Dean removed the oxygen tubing. Was about to ask for specific permission to carry Dean when his brother made the first move by raising his back off the bed but only far enough to allow him to slip his hand underneath

Nearly choked up by the trust Dean was showing him, Sam slid his hands under Dean's back and knees, felt Dean's body tighten in pain at even the small contact and shift. "Sorry," he breathed before he lifted Dean fully into his arms, like he had when he picked up a bloody, dying Dean off the floor in New Harmony. His brother's moan of pain pierced him through the heart but he didn't stop his motion, drew Dean more fully into his hold until Dean's body rested against his own. Feeling Dean's head sink down onto his shoulder, he could hear his brother's shallow, rapid breathing that was a replacement for screaming in agony. Tried to shut down his own reactions because, touching Dean, holding Dean, it was like connecting with a live wire, made all his senses came alive. He could easily detect the trembling in his brother's frame, the slight heat coming off of his brother's slowly healing body, taunted him with the undeniable fact that Dean was vulnerable, was in agony…and he wasn't helping any of that. Was in fact making it worse. Cursing himself, he gripped tighter to Dean, torn between getting Dean to the bathroom and putting Dean back onto the bed, asking Alec to take over, for something to do this better, to not hurt Dean, to help him.

"I hate dogs," Dean rasped out, found he needed a distraction. But more than that, he needed something to anchor him, to keep him from crumbling under the agony, succumbing to the pull of unconsciousness, something..or someone to hold onto like Sam was holding onto him. Feeling five, he, none the less, twisted his fingers in his brother's shirt, held onto something tangible, onto someone who was holding him back.

Dean's grumbled complaint and the grip of Dean's hand on his shirt allowed Sam to breathe again, to let air once again seep into his lungs. Gave him the ability to be the strength Dean needed because Dean was the strength he needed. Proving again that their roles hadn't really changed, Dean was still the stronger of the two, still the big brother saving little brother by reforging their connection.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Joshua," Sam promised, a smirk turning up his lips at Dean's snort. Then, refocused and steadied, Sam walked to the bathroom, careful to not jostle Dean, or catch his brother's legs on the bathroom door. "Alright, I'm going to put you down, just lean against me, don't put pressure on your injured leg."

"Yes, mom," Dean mumbled but the next second a hiss of air escaped him as Sam followed through on his threat by bending over and setting him onto the ground. Wobbly on his one legged stand and finding himself lightheaded, Dean was relieved that his tilt was stopped by the comforting contact with his brother's body.

Barely straightening in time to pull Dean back against his chest to steady him, Sam, careful to avoid the bandages on his brother's chest, wrapped his arm around Dean's waist, cinched his brother to him. "You OK?" he asked worriedly. The silence that greeted his question had him looking to Dean's turned profile. Seeing the confusion, even disgust in his brother's expression, he followed his brother's line of sight to the mirror above the sink.

Numbly, Dean reached his hand up to his chest, to touch the thick cotton bandages taped to his chest, his eyes never leaving his reflection, a reflection of someone who didn't look like him, was too pale, too weak, who was showing more bandages than skin. "I look dead," he said bleakly, unaware that he had said the words aloud until Sam spoke.

"Well you're not," Sam sharply stated, conviction, relief coiled in his words even as he tightened his grip on his brother. Wanted physical proof that he wasn't lying, needed to be reassured that Dean was there, wasn't going anywhere either.

Flashes of memory hit Dean: Pinned to the table, then the savage claws of the hell hound on his leg, dragging him to the floor, ripping into his back, his shoulder….his chest. Knowing in that moment that he was going to die, was going to go to hell. Believing that there was no hope left. Not for him. With trembling fingers he reached for the edge of the bandage, needed to see the damage for himself, to know this wasn't just some trick of Hell, that it was real, that Sam was real that he wasn't dead and just didn't know it.

Guessing Dean's intentions, Sam, with a warning call of "Dean", reached around Dean and captured Dean's hand in his own, forestalling his brother's actions.

"I need to see, Sam," Dean quietly insisted, his eyes meeting Sam's in the mirror.

"Later," Sam denied, tightening his grip on Dean's hand, not wanting Dean to see what was underneath the bandages, not until it had time to heal, until the flesh didn't look so savagely ripped apart.

"Now," Dean replied, his words soft, imploring, could sense that Sam didn't want him to see, just as he knew he had to. That he had to put things together in his head, had to accept the reality of his wounds, of being alive, to know that he wasn't in some twisted time loop in hell.

Dean's tone, the look in his eyes, it told Sam his brother's need wasn't about pride, it was about needing reality, needing to see for himself how bad his wounds were, to come to terms with what he had been through, to accept that he had survived. Still it was hard to release his grip on Dean's hand, to stand by as Dean pulled the bandages loose, felt the tension in Dean's body as the wounds were cruelly revealed in the mirror's reflection. His breath left him when Dean's did. Unconsciously, he held Dean tighter in his grip. Without his shields of medic to hide behind, he was not concentrating on rationalizing or analyzing the wounds, saw them as Dean would see them.

The sight of the wounds knocked the breath right out of Dean. His knees weaken even as Sam's grip on him tightened, ensuring that he wasn't going to collapse, wasn't getting out of his brother's hold. His hand trembled as he lightly traced the ripped flesh, the row of neat, black stitches. He winced at the contact, at the pain even his cursory touch ignited. Wondered anew how he was alive, how he had survived this. Knew one of the reasons was at his back, was holding onto him tightly but gently, hadn't let him go and had no plans of letting him go now. And another was standing outside the motel room, willing to protect him against all comers, even Hell's best.

"Alec's blood might not be able to heal you overnight but Alec said it will make sure you don't have a lot of scarring, might not have any external scarring after a few months," Sam reassured, didn't want Dean to think he had to be reminded of how close he had come to going to hell every time he took his shirt off, that he would be disfigured where the world could see it. '_I wish I could do something to take away your internal scars, Dean. But I can't.' _

Lifting his gaze from his wound to land on Sam's eyes in the mirror, Dean saw an apology in Sam's eyes, a thousand regrets for not sparing him this pain, for not stopping Lilith earlier, for not heading all this off at the pass. If anyone understood that level of regret, he did. "Having you and Alec wait on me hand and foot for awhile, that's a fair trade off for not ending up scaring the ladies off by looking like Edward Scissor Hands," he stated, a satisfied smile turning up his lips, hoping his joke erased the guilt in Sam's eyes. Seeing the relief in Sam's reflection, he pulled his eyes from the mirror, turned his focus on his bladder's demands. "Ok, now give me some privacy, dude."

Bowing his head until it rested against Dean's shoulder blades, Sam stated, "Trust me, I have no intention of looking."

"Sam?!" Dean huffed in frustration, knowing Sam hadn't misinterpreted his order.

"If you've turned shy, I can sing at the top of my lungs so I don't hear anything?" Sam offered, half in jest and half in truth. Air whooshed out of him in the next second when his brother's elbow rammed into his ribs.

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Seeing Dean sitting up in the bed, sans the oxygen canal and the IV and looking like he was truly on the mend eased the tension in Bobby, dispelled the last reservation he had about heading home that day. Was glad that Alec and Sam had actually left him alone with Dean for a change, that one of them wasn't hovering in the background like they had been for the past week. Coming to a stand beside Dean's bed, he said, "Since you boys have everything under control, I'm going to head out today."

But his declaration produced a worried frown on Dean's face. "You're leaving me at the mercy of Sam and Alec?! They think I still need their help getting to the john and they won't let me step one foot outside the room yet. Was hoping you would stick around, run some interference for me," his eyes hopeful, pleading.

"Run interference? Against those two?!" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head. "Love ya, kid, but forget it. You're on your own. I learned a long time ago that getting between a wounded Winchester and a protective Winchester was more deadly than going up against a momma grisly bear."

"Chicken," Dean muttered but it only caused the older hunter to laugh.

"No arguments on that one," Bobby conceded with mirth. Then he held out his hand and Dean shook it. He held Dean's hand a moment , met Dean's eyes, hoped the kid knew the words weren't throw away ones, that he did love him. When Dean nodded, it was acknowledgement enough for him and he released the younger man's hand from his grip. "Stop giving me grey hairs, kid. Take care of yourself…and those two brothers of yours."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Bobby's inclusion of Alec in the brother tally, hadn't gotten a real vibe if the older hunter had come to accept Alec's role in the Winchester family or not. "Brothers?"

"Yeah, brothers," Bobby gruffly conceded, though in truth, he had come to like Alec, to appreciate the kid's presence in their lives, to think that he just might deserve the loyalty and love Sam and Dean were lavishing on him. "Not only does the kid have the misfortune of looking like you but he's got your smart mouth and Sam's stubbornness. Not to mention the Winchester tenacity to do the impossible to save one of his brothers. Hard to believe he didn't grow up with you and Sam," he concluded with a shake of his head.

"Oh, don't worry, I plan to teach him lots of things," Dean promised, a light of mischief in his eyes.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm afraid of. Now I'll have another Winchester I have to bail out of the fire. Man, I need a vacation." Then he headed for the door, turned around to face Dean when the oldest Winchester called his name, a vulnerability in his tone.

"Bobby…thanks …for everything," Dean earnestly said even as he knew the words were inadequate for all the older man had done for his family, for him. Part of him hated that he had dragged his friend into the drama with his crossroad deal from practically day one, even as he was grateful for the man's steadfast loyalty to him. Knew Bobby had offered Sam a listening board to all of his off-the-wall schemes to get him free of the deal. That whenever they called, Bobby answered, whenever they needed someone to have their backs, the older man was there…even when their backs were up against the wall, when twelve strikes of a clock could have been it for all of them. "I know you didn't have to be here but I'm really glad you were. Not just for me but for Sam…for Alec."

Bobby didn't belittle Dean's gratitude, simply nodded his head, "Family sticks with family….you taught me that one, son." Then Bobby slipped out the door before the kid saw him get all misty eyed and he ruined his tough guy reputation once and for all. With a wave to Sam and Alec, who were packing up the Impala, and a "You boys be careful. Call me if you need me", he climbed into his car. Found he was somewhat relieved to be heading home even as he knew that part of his heart would be traveling around in a 1967 Chevy Impala, getting into more trouble than he even gave them credit for. Knew just as certainly that loving those boys, it was worth the grey hairs, every last one of them.

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TBC

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Thanks for spending time with this story!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	22. Chapter 22

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Thanks so much for all the encouragement you all gave me to continue this story for a few more chapters!

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Chapter 22

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Though his eyes were closed, Dean could still detect the sunlight's presence, could feel the warmth on his skin. He let himself revel in that blessing before he tried to figure out where he was, how he had gotten there, what day it was. He had tried to store it up the past year: the sunlight, the sight of the sky and the clouds, every experience he had, every second he got to spend with Sam, the unexpected honor of getting Alec in his life. He had clung to all of it, knowing…expecting it to all be taken away from him…forever. To be in Hell now where there was no sun, no sky, no Alec and no _Sam_. Ever again. Was only unimaginable pain and the desecration of every part of his soul that had ever resonated with goodness.

It was still a shock to have been spared that, to have woken up to see Sam there, waiting for him. To see, in the haunted look in Sam and Alec and even Bobby's eyes, evidence that a ruthless battle had been waged for his survival, that they had fought it when he no longer could. Had not the strength or heart left to fight it. Truly, he had only fought it in the first place because Sam asked him to, Alec expected him to. But the deciding bout, it had definitely been fought for him, maybe even over him, good versus evil, victory over defeat, family against all comers. Made him realize just how stupid he had been the past year…maybe his whole life, thinking his bond with Sam was stronger than Sam's bond with him, for doubting that Sam's _love_ was any less tenacious than his own. Just another thing he had gotten wrong in life.

Tentatively stretching, he winced as it awakened his numerous points of pain on his body. Cracking open his eyes, he blinked in the sunlight. Visually sweeping the room and determining it was definitely not a motel room, he struggled to put the pieces together of the other night. Remembered still practically being carried to the back seat of the Impala by Alec and Sam, (though he was now allowed to manage a few stumbling steps under their supervision), the reassuring rumble of the car under him, a conversation about some place to hole up for a few weeks and Bobby's name and then it all went blank. Until now.

The room was decorated in woodsy overtones with fishing pictures and mountain landscape paintings that reminded him of that joint he and Sam stayed at on the Max Miller case. Turning his head, he saw the open window which was the conduit for the sunlight, felt the light breeze waft through the room and the scent of pine trees. Though he had been quoted as hating camping, this level of comfort hardly qualified as roughing it. He strained his hearing but couldn't detect movement in the cabin, which left him wondering where his two nursemaids were lurking. Sam and Alec had barely left him out of their sight the past week, he highly doubted they would have left him on his own in an unknown environment.

Deciding to take advantage of being unobserved, Dean used his left hand to fling the covers off. Having learned the hard way that trying to go from flat on his back to sitting upright was near impossible, especially if he didn't want to black out, he rolled right. He grimaced as his shoulder wound throbbed as well as the healing slices on his chest. Gritting his teeth, he slid his legs off the bed, purposefully moved his injured leg slower. Then, with a hand propped on the bed, he levered himself into a seated position, his triumph dampened by the head rush that ensued.

Closing his eyes tightly, he gripped the edge of the bed with his hands, sat there marshalling his strength, threatening his own body, telling himself he could work through the pain and the aches and the lightheadedness and the queasy stomach in just a moment. It was a surprise he didn't jump at Sam's soft voice, didn't maybe because, on some level, he had sensed his brother's presence hovering nearby.

"You want some help?" Sam offered, hoped his tone came out casually helpful and not nervous and concerned even as he itched to fly to Dean's side, to ensure Dean didn't pitch off the bed.

Opening his eyes and seeing Sam standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, trying so hard to look nonchalant, Dean smirked and put his talents to use cajoling a confession out of his brother. "You've been hovering outside the door since I woke up, haven't you?"

"What? No," Sam denied quickly, voice squeaking, shuffling on his feet as he rambled on, "I was just walking by..saw you up and thought…" But he huffed out a breath as his brother's smirk turned into a smug smile. "Whatever. You want help or not?"

"No," Dean growled back, smile morphing into a scowl as he hung his head, didn't have to see his brother to know Sam hadn't moved. "Where are we?" he asked, lifting his head to refocus on Sam, all the while praying he would get the energy to do more than simply crawl back into bed and call it a day.

Taking Dean's question as an invitation into the room, Sam crossed over the threshold, sank into a chair beside the bed. A chair he had visited for a few hours the previous night, needing to reassure himself after a too realistic dream that Dean wasn't dead. "Cabin that belongs to one of Bobby's contacts. No neighbors around except for Yogi the Bear for at least five miles."

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise and respect. "One of Bobby's contacts, huh? We should have him book us places more often."

"Tell me about it!" Sam agreed with enthusiasm and a laugh. "Wait until you see the rest of the house. And the lake, it's just down a short path from the house."

Dean's eyes lit up at the prospect of the outdoors, at actually being allowed to venture more than two steps from a bed. But Alec's voice cut that fantasy off at the knees.

"Yeah, I'll take a picture of it so you can see it," Alec drawled with a smile, as he came to lean in the bedroom doorway. He waited until Dean's face clouded with indignation and his brother opened his mouth to chew him out before he tossed the coat in his hand across the room. Dean easily caught the coat one handedly, felt like more than his head was shifting when he looked up at Alec in confusion.

"Or, you could get your carcass out of bed and see it live and in person," Alec said, enjoyed the spark of life that he saw in Dean's eyes, couldn't help smirking conspiringly with Sam. "Come on, day light's burning," he goaded as he clapped his hands together, gave an exaggerated jump of his eyebrows and walked away. His voice wafting back, "I'll make breakfast."

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"I can't see the lake from here," Dean grumbled from his position on a chair on the front porch of the cabin, a chair Alec had manhandled him into when he had sought to walk down the stairs.

Alec crouched by his side and contradicted, "Sure you can. You can see the glimmer of the water right through the trees there," he said, pointing to a gap in the trees.

"I saw more water from one of the pictures hanging in there," Dean retorting, jerking his hand toward the house behind him.

"If you want to go back in…" Alec threatened, reaching for Dean's arm but Dean knocked his hand off his shoulder and gave him a death glare which only made him laugh. Sinking to sit Indian style at Dean's side, he took in a deep inhale of the woods, felt contentment settle over him the likes he had never felt before. It felt like they were on a family vacation, that this wasn't about hiding from all comers, getting Dean healed up, was just about them, about spending time with each other.

Surprised that Alec claimed a seat on the porch at his side like a loyal pet instead of one of the other chairs, he gave his brother an assessing look, wondered what was going through Alec's head. "Chairs are more comfortable, you know. It's why the cave men invented them."

But Alec reply was a light denial, "Nah, I'm good where I am," '_beside you.' _

For awhile companionable silence fell between the brothers even as nature around them conducted their own version of conversations. When Dean spoke, his tone had a tentative element, "Talk to Max?"

Dean purposefully focused on the trees that surrounded the cabin instead of Alec, honestly didn't want to see the look on Alec's face. Didn't want to know how badly his brother was missing Max and Joshua and the rest of the TC community. Wanted Alec to soothe the insecurities that were churning in his gut, not confirm them.

"Yeah," Alec answered with a smile, looked to Dean's profile, watched as his brother nodded his head in acknowledgement of his answer. "Talked to her yesterday," he clarified as his conversation with Max began replaying in his head.

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A hopeful "Yeah," reached Alec through the phone lines.

With warmth threading through him at Max's voice, Alec initiated, "Hey, Max."

"Alec," Max had instantly returned, relief and love mingled in her tone. "You alright? Your brothers alright?"

"We're alive," he deflected, forced a light laugh into the declaration, but knew it hadn't fooled Max, that she had come to know him too well…just like Dean and Sam had.

"That close, huh?" and there was deep sympathy in her question.

His throat tightened up then and he couldn't say a word. _Close_…didn't begin to cover it, would never encompass how he felt about losing Dean, about almost losing Sam to grief.

Max spoke into his silence. "You would be proud of us. We've pulled off three more Good Samaritan operations and even got a favorable letter to the editor in the Seattle times."

But that only added more guilt to Alec's decision, knowing that he had started that plan of action and had bailed on it, bailed on Mac…didn't intent to race back to either right then. Couldn't. His heart wouldn't let him. "Max…about that. I know I kicked all that off but…"

"No one's asking you to be the front runner on it, Alec. We put it to the vote. We all decided it was the right thing to do," her tone not conveying one drop of condemnation, her words instead were designed to let him off the hook. Then she snorted and it was so wrong he found the sound sexy. "Trust me when I say there's been no clamoring for a general to rise up…or even a leader most days."

But his guilt wasn't so easily eased, especially at the notion that Max was having trouble, might personally need his support. "I should be there to help you…" his voice a mixture of determination and regret, _apology _because his decision was made, had been made after he got Dean's phone call, when he left TC to go and try to save his brother's life. Because, if fate was merciful and he got to keep his brothers, he wasn't going to throw the gift away, wasn't going to take it for granted, take _them_ for granted.

Max's sharp retort cut across his words, "What?! To do your _duty_? Alec, you're out of Manticore, White's gone, you can put yourself first, you know." For a moment silence fell and when Max spoke again her words were soft, gentle, sincere. "I know what your brothers mean to you…even if you don't want to admit it. They are the prime examples of why I wanted Manticore to go down, so we all could have lives…would be able to drop our guards, let ourselves love someone without worrying we would get them killed. And that's what we're all fighting for, right? The right to love, to have a family. You got yours, Alec. Don't throw it away, not for some misguided duty to other transgenics. _Or to me_," she tacked on quietly, because she could do this for Alec, could be selfless in the face of her love for him, could give instead of take.

"Max," Alec began but Max talked over his protest.

"Like I said before, I'm tenacious. I waited ten years to regroup with my Manticore family. I think I can give you a few months with your brothers before I track you down, go all needy girl on you," Max prayed her words came out light, like she intended them to.

"Max, I can't ask that of you…for you to wait.." because honestly, it didn't feel like a few months was going to be enough time spent with his brothers. It felt like a full _lifetime_ wouldn't be long enough. That all the time in the world was going to fall too short to make up for the time lost, for the things he and his brothers had to do, for the things he wanted to tell them…to prove to them.

"So who's _asking_? I'm _telling_ you I'm waiting," Max shot back, wanted Alec to know that he wasn't ditching her that easily, wasn't ditching her at all if she had anything to say about it. Because the Alec that had left Seattle and the Alec that had walked back into her life at TC weren't the same person, were different. And it was unsettling to know she loved this new Alec more, the Alec that wasn't broken, was a little brother. An Alec that laughed more, smiled more, was happier when his brothers were at his side. Remembered back at TC, Alec sliding an arm around her waist, pulling her against him, the way Alec smiled at Joshua as Sam and Dean recounted one of the three brothers' adventures with relish. Even to her it felt like they were family, all of them, more than TC's bloodlines could ever reproduce. It was what she had wanted her whole life without knowing it, without ever daring she could have it. And it had hurt when Sam and Dean had walked out of TC without promises to return, had killed her to see the agony and loneliness and fear that rampaged through Alec as he stayed behind in TC, with her, with Joshua. Knew then what her heart had told her the whole time: she couldn't complete Alec, no matter how much she loved him. But his brothers could. Could heal the new fractures in Alec's soul, could even give Alec the courage to love her, to give a piece of himself to her. Knew that together, Alec, his brothers, Joshua, they could be family. A real family. So for that, yeah she could cool her heels at TC, could pine away for the man she loved without going all dark poems and drinking binges. "I will be here when you three get around to Seattle again," she promised, meant it and all its connotations.

And it was overwhelming, what Max was offering. Not only her love but her acceptance that he was a package deal from here on out. Was awed and blessed by Max's insight into what he was now, had become: a brother, a little brother who wouldn't feel complete if his big brothers weren't around. "Max, I do love you, you know that right?" he declared, voice husky, emotions unchecked, real.

"Knew you would come around to my way of thinking," Max gloated in her saucy girl tone, causing Alec to laugh with joy. "Kiss your brothers for me."

"Not in a million years," Alec readily returned with a laugh. "Keep yourself safe Max," he solemnly commanded, found he couldn't say goodbye, not to Max. Never could.

"I will if you will," she counter ordered, like the soldier she couldn't help being.

Then the connection faded but Alec was wearing a smile so wide that it almost hurt. Almost.

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Hearing the affection in Alec's tone at even the _mention_ of his Manticore family, Dean had to clear the emotions in his throat before he could speak, could find a way to force himself to ask Alec if that meant he was going back to TC soon, was leaving him. Them.

But Sam exited the house at that moment said to Alec what he had moments before, "Chairs are more comfortable, you know." Proving that, he and Sam, they might not always think the same way…but sometimes they did. And that was all Dean needed to know.

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Books sprawled across the table and the lap top open, Dean declared, "We can easily handle this, especially with Alec's night vision," his eyes cutting across the living room to the cabin's only other occupant.

Not bothering to lower the book he was reading, Sam refuted with zero room for argument, "No. No hunts until you're 100%, Dean." To which, of course, Dean argued.

"Come on, I'll be research guy. Alec can watch your back," Dean cajoled, wanting something to do, anything to do that would break up the boredom of his brothers enforced "recovery" time.

And it was the opening Sam needed…and didn't want to take. Closing his book, he shifted to the end of the lounge chair and met his brother's look across the living room, forced himself to make his next words gentle because he knew they would hurt Dean, knew it because they hurt him. "Alec will probably be heading back home soon."

"Home?" Dean echoed, his tone forlorn, because he had thought _they_ were Alec's home, him and Sam. Instantly bitterness flared in him for Max, for Josh, for the whole TC community and he wished he had never allowed Alec to return there in the first place. That he had never seen that news coverage about transgenics…that Alec had never felt compelled to lend a hand to the fight.

The hurt in Dean's voice, the loss, it wounded Sam where he was already vulnerable. But he forced himself to press on, to face the inevitable, to get Dean to see that life…it changed, whether you wanted it to or not. "He has a life there, Dean. With Max and Josh…the other transgenics," he gently pointed out.

"Sure but he's going to stay with us for awhile, right?" Dean asked, striving to be hopeful, to let confidence carry in his tone. But Sam's silence, the pensive look his brother wore was denial enough, had him choking out, "He told you he's leaving?"

"No but…he will leave soon. When he knows you're OK."

Not good at letting people go, Dean clung to hope, to family even when it was illogical. "Maybe he's decided to stay with us." Because Alec had admitted that he talked to Max and he hadn't packed his bags that night, had stayed.

Sam uttered his brother's name in gentle protest. "Dean.." hating that he had to crush his brother's false hope, watched as Dean's eyes dropped from him, focused on the table top, a grim set to his jaw. Found himself growing angry, angry that Dean couldn't see this on his own, that Dean clung to people so hard, people that ended up hurting him, leaving him. '_Like Dad and me and Alec._' "There's more to life than hunting," he bluntly said, like he had that first year they were hunting together after Stanford. And it came out like an accusation, like something Dean should _know _and not have to be told, time and time again. Despising himself for his words, Sam found he hated something worse: the way Dean's head snapped up, the hurt, the betrayal that blazed in his brother's eyes as they seared into his.

"Alec is not like you, Sam!" Dean shouted back, refusing to believe that Alec was capable of turning his back on his family, of doing what Sam had done when he went to college. He couldn't believe that Alec would cut him off.

Alec froze on the porch, the raised voices, the inclusion of his name in the conversation, the accusation, Dean's _anger, _all of it stolehis breath away. Turned him into a statue that couldn't move, but he could hear, goodness help him but he could hear every word his brothers spoke.

Sam's reply radiated with the same accusation, the same level of anger that Dean's had. "And maybe he's not like you! Maybe he's not like either one of us, Dean. He's _different,_" Sam heatedly pointed out coming to his feet, even as Dean did the same. He was _proud _of Alec for not being like them. Prayed his little brother wasn't open to hurt like they were, that he never developed the ability to hurt the ones he loved like he did, didn't make a lifetime habit out of making reckless sacrifices like Dean did for the sake of love, of honor, of family.

"He doesn't have to be," Dean countered, and there it was again, that forlorn hope, that hurt tone that tore Sam apart, piece by piece.

"You can't change him!" Sam thundered back, hating that Alec was yet another way the world had found to hurt Dean, that he couldn't ever seem to protect Dean against this, against people leaving him.

"So you think he should leave?!" Dean thundered, knew he honestly shouldn't have been surprised that in a battle between family business versus freedom of normalcy, Sam would vote 100% for the freedom ballot. That no matter all that they had been through, Sam still valued freedom over family.

The question hung in the air, choking Sam and Dean both as they stood toe to toe. "Yes…" Sam breathed out but faltered as he saw his brother's barriers crumble at the one word. It caused his next words to be a litany of unvoiced curses because this wasn't what he wanted, to hurt Dean, to rub it in his brother's face that they were going to have to let Alec go. That Dean was going to have to let go of another member of his family, that he was again going to lose what he valued most in the world.

At his brother's exchange of words, Alec stumbled, felt his knees nearly go out on him…like his heart already had. "He's different" "You can't change him" "You think he should leave…yes." He was going to be sick…or worse, was going to crumble to his knees and cry, beg for forgiveness for being different, vow that he could change, plead with Sam to let him stay, convince them that whatever was wrong with him, he would fix, they could fix. Together. On shaking legs he nearly tripped down the porch stairs, was blinded by unshed tears and broken by grief but this was something he knew how to do, was good at: leaving.

At Dean's shake of his head and quiet desolate, "No, Sam," Sam continued, took on the role of strength this time, like Dean had back in Chicago when they had to let their father go to keep him safe. Knew that, in its own way, this decision was like that one, was about letting go of the person they loved to spare them pain, because it was best for them…was best for Alec. "Yes, if it's what he wants."

Instead of remorse, Dean burned with anger, with righteous indignation because he had been through this _before_, had thought he had protected himself against the notion of it happening again…with Sam. But not with Alec, hadn't constructed those walls like he should have. "And who cares what I want? What you want? I'm supposed to let him walk away like I let you go? I'm supposed to just forget I have a brother, write him off. To not call him, to never see him, to pretend I died…or he did."

"No!" Sam fervently denied, hating Dean's choice of words. "No that's not what I'm saying! And for the record, Dean, that wasn't what I meant when I said, '_I'm pissed at Dad and you defending him isn't going to change that_.' Or '_I_ _have mid terms so don't call me for awhile._' It never meant change your cell phone number on me, drop off the face of the earth! Make me call Bobby to make sure you're not dead!" Old hurts, old fears came rising to the surface now that the lid was off of his control, that Dean's words had reopened old wounds.

Dean flinched, quietly said, "You called Bobby?" a hint of surprise, of disbelief in his tone.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled, felt uncomfortable with the confession before it morphed to indignation. "I had to when I couldn't reach you for a week straight." But his admission, it was worth it when it garnered a softening in Dean's eyes, when he could see the pieces coming together for his brother, the realization that things weren't like he thought they were. That he wasn't the only brother who needed family, needed his brother. Told Dean he needed him, wanted Dean in his life, even when he was off pursuing "normal" with a vengeance.

Sam pulled on a smirk. "You do that to Alec, cut him off and go disappearing on him, he'll be even more pissed at you than I was. I guarantee you that he will give you a greeting a whole lot colder than the one I gave you back at Jess and my apartment when you finally resurfaced, you coming in there playing it off like it was nothing, breaking in, pretending we had just talked the week before when you hadn't called me in _two years._'

"So what, I should have interpreted your "don't call me" as "send me a Christmas card?!" That I should send Alec a 'Happy Transgenic Day' card once a year?!" Dean shot back because it was how he dealt with uncomfortable emotions, with mistakes he couldn't undo, with things that were happening that were out of his control and against his wishes.

"Yeah, send him a card, call him, drop in for a visit, do something that tells him you're not dead, that you're still brothers." And Sam knew his words weren't about Alec anymore, were about him, were about him and Dean, about being so lonely for his brother for two years that the hurt was just now fading after three years of being together, 24/7, through all fate had thrown at them.

"We'll always be brothers," Dean vowed with warm affection glistening in his eyes as they held Sam's, the declaration about him and Sam, and him and Alec and Sam. Was something that was non-negotiable, just was and no one was going to take it away from him, ever.

Sam shuffled as Dean's declaration sent a wave of joy through this heart. "Well, sometimes a guy needs proof of that."

"Proof?!" Dean scoffed. "What?! Flowers? Chocolate?"

"Just the sound of your voice, Dean," Sam pointed out, knew that, all the time at college, he hadn't been able to ever drown out the hope that one day it would be his brother on the other end of the phone line. "Or a chance to ride shotgun on one of your many searches for good diner food, or hitting the bars for a drink. Even when Alec heads back to TC, he'll need that from you, Dean. Want it from you."

"And he'll want that from you too, Sam," Dean assured before he qualified with a teasing light in his eyes, "Well, not the drinking part because you're a lightweight." The comment earned him a punch in his uninjured arm from Sam but brought a smile to both of their faces. Yeah, Alec might call his homebase somewhere other than the Impala but there was no way the kid was getting rid of them. Ever.

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TBC

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Sorry to slip into angst this time but I promise the brothers are going to get things straightened out between them in the next chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	23. Chapter 23

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story. Nor do I own any rights to the lyrics of "Next Contestant."

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

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Chapter 23

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"Barkeep, another," Alec lowly called to the bartender, nodding to his unforgivably empty shot glass. Watched dispassionately as the amber liquid was sloshed into the glass, ached to simply grab the bottle from the bartender's hand, swallow down the half quart left. Wanted this pain to _stop_…or at least dampen, almost missed Manticore's laser treatments that ripped memories out of his mind, seemingly with a hot torch. Cause these memories? He. Didn't. Want. Them.

He had thought he belonged somewhere for the first time, that he was part of something, someone. That he was loved, him, not the role he was effecting for an objective but him, all of him, even the nasty assassin, coward-that-bartered-with-White-for-his-life him. Swallowing the alcohol in one gulp he called out for the bartender again, wanted to wipe the day off the map, forever. It was almost ironic, that Max was letting him go so he could stay with his brothers and now Sam and Dean didn't want him sticking around. That it had gone from choosing between his two families to having none. From having everything he ever wanted…_'To everything I truly deserve_,' he darkly concluded, chastising himself for thinking he was due happiness when he had brought pain to so many people. Had brought it to the people he loved most of all: Rachel, Joshua, Max, Sam, Dean. He had left them all down in his own way, had lied to them, broken vows to them, had stacked their _lives_ against his own happiness. All for nothing, so he could end up alone, _different_. Different from the others at Manticore, different from the two men he loved as brothers, so different that he didn't belong anywhere…not even in his own skin sometimes.

A drunk, baritone voice at his back broke through his personal pity party. "You've got one of those barcodes. You're one of those mutant _freaks_, aren't you?" the man's tone conveying that TC's Good Samaritan operations had done nothing to warm his feelings toward Manticore's progenies

Alec smiled. With the type of day he was having, this was like a gift: someone willingly offering themselves up to be his punching bag. Swiveling around on the bar stool, he smiled wider, and wagged his finger at the guy who stood taller than his brother Sam, had probably a hundred pounds on him, most of which was muscle. "You're a fan, right? I can always tell, have a sixth sense about that. Well, I actually have more senses than six but I don't like to brag, not when I've been blessed with packaging like this," and he pointed to his face. "But you.." he scowled, "Well you weren't. You know ugliness like yours is beautiful to some of my kind. I can hook you up…." And he didn't even _try_ to block or dodge the man's right cross, left himself open to it. The pain as the fist connected with his jaw, as his teeth tore into the inside of his mouth and the man's knuckles cut his lip…he relished. Welcomed the left cross that landed on his eye a second later, knocking him to the bar floor with a jarring thud.

Down on the sticky beer sloshed wooden floorboards, Alec began to push himself upright, laughing a bitter sound as he did so. When the bully's foot lashed out toward his ribs, he blocked it with his forearm, because, yeah, pain felt good but the idea of returning the favor …that was where it was at. With the speed Manticore endowed him with, he came off the floor, latched onto his opponent's shirt, spun the man around and slammed him into the nearest wall within seconds. Hatred, hurt brimming from his eyes, boring into the stranger's fearful gaze, he coiled his fist back and released it. Sent it, at the last moment, not into the man's face but into the wall instead. His strike smashed through the paneling and plaster to the wood struts beyond, shook the beam's foundations…just like his own foundations were shaken. Shaken but not destroyed, not yet because, like Berrisford had said about Rachel, he still wanted Sam and Dean to be proud of him, was still _their_ brother, regardless if his devotion wasn't reciprocated.

Sliding his trembling hand free of the man's shirk, he stammered, "I…I don't want to hurt you," head turned away, swallowing the emotion that was choking him. "Just walk away," he breathed out, plead, threat, order rolled into the three words before his eyes collided with the stranger's. And it was cue enough for the guy.

Separating himself from Alec's deadly perimeter, the man stumbled a moment on legs made unsteady more by fear than physical failings. And then he headed for the door, left his table mates to make their own way home. Understood, in the most basic way, that he had provoked a lion and was, miraculously, walking away, all limbs in tact. Had seen, had _felt,_ first hand, the unbelievable strength in the mutant. Knew that he was spared injury even death only by the other man's _mercy. _Found that he believed the anguished whispered words, _"I don't want to hurt you.' _And the mutant hadn't. Had chosen not to though he had provoked him, had been asking for it, maybe even deserved it. '_Crap, the mutant's a better man than I am.' _And that thought sober him more than his ex-girlfriend's parting words a month back. Had him rethinking his path and his prejudices as he climbed into his car and turned on the engine.

Withdrawing his hand from the wall, Alec turned to face the other patrons of the bar, a bar that had fallen silent and still. Saw an odd mixture of emotions in the faces he saw: fear, hatred, surprise..respect? And oddly it didn't garner one ounce of emotion from him. He didn't _care_ what these strangers thought about him. Whether they wanted to string him up or let him pull up a chair. Turning his back on them all, allies and enemies alike, he reclaimed his bar stool, opened his mouth to say 'barkeep' but the bartender was already there, not pouring him a drink but sitting the bottle down in front of him before scampering off to the other end of the bar.

Raising the bottle in a salute to the bartender's generosity, he took a swig, winced as the alcohol burned on his cut lip and mouth but he enjoyed that same sensation as the liquid slid down his throat. Could hear the scuffle of people getting up from their tables, was poised for another confrontation but the footsteps led out the bar door, not towards him. Not yet anyway.

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Sensing Dean's eyes on him even across the Impala's dark interior, Sam sharply demanded, "What?" hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"Nothing," Dean denied but his tone held that element of amusement that always drew Sam in.

"What?" Sam drawled out, eyes shooting from Dean back to the road again and then to Dean.

"Nothing just…You're promoting the 'we gotta let Alec go' slogan and yet who is out looking for him right now like an overprotective _mother." _And Dean tried, hard, to not let some measure of hope slip into his tone. Because this, Sam's worry, it meant that Sam wasn't willing to give Alec up anymore than he was. Meant that maybe it would be two against one when it came to talk to Alec about his future, about with whom his future rested. And it wasn't going to be him who was the odd man out.

Sam shot Dean an indignant look. "He's been gone for hours, Dean. And he's not answering his phone. Tell me you're not worried?!"

"Sam, he's been stuck with us for weeks, first in that crappy motel room and now in the cabin. He probably needed his space," Dean casually rationalized, but Sam couldn't see, amid the car's dark interior, the worry in the green eyes that met his. The fear that Alec had already made his decision about where he belonged, who he belonged with, that his youngest brother had already left him behind.

"You didn't answer my question, Dean?" Sam pressed because he didn't have to see Dean to read Dean.

"Check out this bar," Dean gruffly ordered, pointing to the ramshackle building that had enough electricity to light a beer advertisement but not the bar's parking lot.

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Alec's hand was tightening around the liquor bottle almost to shatter point when a familiar, unexpected voice railed at him from the bar's entrance. The voice, the presence of his brothers encumbered his muscles, breath, mind and _heart_. Left him sitting there like a statue, afraid that if he moved he would splinter apart.

"Nice disappearing act, Alec!" Sam lowly bit out as he stalked toward his younger brother, Dean only a few steps behind him. "And why isn't your phone on?!" he demanded, eyes transfixed on his little brother's profile, wanting an explanation for the gut wrenching worry he had endured for the past few hours.

Surprise, happiness, despair and bitterness all swelled in Alec for a moment but then he drew on his Manticore training, put away the part of him that was weak, sought to be the true blue soldier who was too cold-hearted to be hurt. With only a minuscule hitch in his breathing, he set his focus onto his drink, pretended Sam was just another stranger calling him out. He couldn't afford to believe the lies anymore, to pretend that he was a Winchester, that Sam and Dean wanted him with them. Not if he wanted to salvage any part of himself. "'Cause I turned it off," he evenly answered Sam's question, taking another healthy swallow from the liquor bottle, his eyes on the row of bottles behind the bar.

Stunned by Alec's reaction, wondering what had occurred since they had all sat down for lunch at their kitchen table, Dean opened his mouth to demand Alec tell him what was going on, intended to invade Alec's personal space to get his answers. However he ended up doing neither: talking or moving. Was thwarted by the warning clamoring in his gut, that sixth sense that forewarned him when bad things were about to happen. Or, as his luck would have it, had already happened.

Forcing himself to draw his attention away from Alec, Dean scanned the bar's dark interior for the perceived threat. He stiffened as he realized that all eyes were on them. And no one looked like they were about to offer to buy them a drink. "Ah, guys…" he lowly said, attempting to get Sam and Alec's attention without shifting his steely eyed standoff with the bar patrons. Felt, in that moment, like a marshal from a western doomed with the task of single handedly holding back a lynch mob.

Ignoring Dean, Sam stepped into his little brother's space and chastised Alec, his fear and worry morphing into anger now that he had located his MIA little brother. "Why would you turn your phone off? Why would you do that?! We didn't know where you went? If something happened to you…."

Turning to face Sam for the first time, Alec quietly challenged, "I know, you're disappointed that I'm still around? Hoped that I had saved you the trouble of asking me to leave?"

But Alec's words, they didn't register with Sam. Sam's attention and breath had been stolen away by the marked evidence of abuse on his brother's face, by the blood on his brother's lip, the bleeding cut over his eye, the red splotching of the skin on his cheek that would morph into a dark bruise. "Hey," he gently said, voice soaked in concern even as he reached out to grab Alec's chin. He didn't take it personally when Alec flinched back from his touch, had dealt with that brand of prickly, stubborn Winchester pride often enough with his big brother. "What happened?" his voice intertwined with concern and menace.

Leaning his side against the bar and propping his elbow on the counter Alec drawled with a smile that revealed teeth still covered in blood, "Oh, I'm just getting to know the locals."

"Who!?" Sam demanded venomously, eyes already scanning the bar patrons for the idiot who thought he could hurt his brother and get away with it.

Recognizing Sam's protective instincts and anger, Alec affected a stage whisper, "Ah, genetically empowered super soldier here. I think I can handle some barflys."

At Alec's blatant statement, projected loud enough to carry to the tables closest to the bar, Sam clamped his hand over Alec's mouth and "shushed" him. Wondered if this was how Alec was drunk: careless…reckless with his own life. Basically like Dean sober.

Forcefully disengaging Sam's hand from his mouth, Alec scoffed with a cocky smile, "Relax. You could say the 'cat's out of the bag.'"

In chorus, Sam and Dean gave a hushed, outraged shout of "What?!" their eyes fixed on Alec, hoping that the younger man wasn't implying what they thought he was implying.

Reading no denials in Alec's features, Dean cursed under his breath. Turning again to the rest of the bar, he gave a fabricated smile at the spectators to their family drama, watched with dread as people started to climb to their feet, began funneling into an effective force to overrun them. "Guys it's time to wrap up this episode of 'Sammy knows best' and get out of here, " he mumbled lowly for his brothers' ears only while still offering a smile to the crowd. Unconsciously he reached for the gun in his waist band…a gun that wasn't there because Sam had confiscated it from him before they left, stating that he didn't need a gun…or even one of his fake badges. '_Sure, tell me that again, Sam.' _he internally groused.

Dropping his shoulders, Dean placated to the hostile crowd, "Alright, alright, no one wants this to end the wrong way," his voice at its most soothing. Was playing peacemaker because more was at stake than a few black eyes and some broken bar furniture. Knew that Alec was at stake, Alec and all the rest of the trangenics's safety and future was on the line with every encounter they had with Ordinaries. Wanted Alec and the other transgenics to be accepted, not feared, not hated. He never wanted Alec to become the hunted, to become a page in some hunter's journal…or a post office's wallpaper.

To Dean's entreaty one of the mob's frontrunners pointed at Alec and accused, "He's one of those mutants!"

Another man called out, tone brimming with hatred, "He should be locked up! Put back in a cage where he belongs!!"

At the words, Dean's blood ran cold. Felt sick at the thought of Alec treated like an animal, put in a cage to be studied, to be tested, to be killed. Stepping forward to face off with the man who had spoken, he claimed, his tone a deadly rumble while his eyes leveled a lethal threat, "That's my _brother_ you're talking about."

"Then maybe you deserve your own cage…" a malicious voice called from the back of the crowd.

At first, Alec was amused at the name calling, the threats. It was nothing that wasn't bandied about on the streets, hurled at him from the perimeters of TC. But Dean's declaration, it jolted through him, shifted what he had thought he understood about Dean, about Sam, about what they thought of him. Again. He quietly stammered, "brother?" trying to figure out the Winchesters, how one minute they could talk about wanting him to leave and the next claim him as their brother, ready and willing to get into a brawl over an insult to him. But however confused he was, the threat to Dean clarified everything. No matter how Dean felt about him, he loved the older man and Sam more than he thought himself capable of loving anyone. And no one was allowed to threaten his brothers, to soil them with the insults they were hurling at him, to think for a second that Dean was another product of Manticore to be feared…or hated…or hurt.

Stepping in front of Dean, blocking his brother's intentions to go toe to toe with an angry mob _for him_, Alec snarled at the strangers who dared to mess with his family, "Insult me all you want but my brothers aren't fair game. You go after them and I'll show you just how well Manticore taught me the fine art of…"

"Alec!" Sam sharply called, cutting off his brother's words and latching onto Alec's arm, wanting to protect Alec's reputation, the transgenics' reputation. He knew, first hand, what it felt like to be hated and hunted for being different, didn't want Alec to forever carry that stigma with him. He was rewarded by Alec's eyes contact, though he could read the seething anger in his brother's eyes at the insults. Insults not made to him, but to Dean, to his family. "Let's just get out of here, alright?" Sam quietly suggested, implored, wanting to get Alec and Dean out of there before things escalated.

"Yeah, run away, freaks!" someone shouted and a beer bottle sailed through the air.

Alec's hand shot out, snagged the bottle, intact, midair, inches from Sam's face. And it was Alec's point of no return. The physical attack on his brothers, it was the last straw to his restraint. Made him abandon his directive to hold back his boiling anger, to conceal his deep love for his brothers, for the two men who were standing at his side even when it meant they could be killed for their show of loyalty.

Instead of blurring to the man who had thrown the beer bottle at Sam, he stalked forward, letting the bottle slip from his hand to shatter on the bar floor. Wanted the man to see him coming, to read in his eyes the retribution that was his to take any way he wanted. Honestly didn't know if Sam had left him go or if he had broken free of his brother's grip.

Now empty handed, the medium built, tattooed man who had used his beer bottle as a missile stepped back at the transgenic's approach, fisted his hands at his side, nervously bounced on his feet, told himself he was ready to teach this mutant a lesson in humanity. To his credit, he threw the first punch…but the transgenic caught his punch in his hand, _easily_. Knew he was going to get slaughtered when the mutant _smiled…_right before he head butted him and followed up with a right cross that knocked out two of his teeth. He didn't have time to retaliate before his jaw cracked under the assault of a left cross and a knee plowed into his gut. He crumbled to the ground, and, to his cowardly relief, the transgenic left him there, didn't haul him to his feet to finish him off.

Leaving the trash on the floor, Alec raised his heated gaze to the other bar patrons, dared them to just try and hurt his brothers. "Any body else got something to say about my brothers?" he goaded, more than ready and willing to fight for his brothers, if not for himself.

When a beefy guy stepped from the ranks of the crowd, muscled arms rippling as he raised his fists, Dean undertoned, "Here comes the next contestant." And he readied himself to step up to Alec's side, to join the ranks of this family fight.

Alec looked at Dean over his shoulder, winked, lowly vowed, "This time someone's getting hurt." Then, without even bothering to turn back from his eye contact with his brother, he lashed out with his foot, connected with the beefy man's groin.

As the man dropped to the ground with a groan of pain, Sam smiled and slipped to Alec's side, purposefully cut off Dean's forward advance. "And there goes the next contestant," he drawled, coming even with Alec. He and Alec shared a glance as they made a two man wall between the combats in front of them and their still healing brother at their back. Their mission was clear: kick some butts…and keep Dean safe. Just another day at the office because, fighting and protecting, it was what a Winchester was made for.

Struggling to get off the ground, Alec's previous downed tattooed opponent howled when his hand was stepped on as the bar erupted into full fledged brawl mode. Covering his head with his hands and drawing his legs up into a fetal position, he prayed he wouldn't be killed by a stampede of feet.

Wading into the wave of aggressors, Sam ducked the first punch thrown at him, grabbed the man's shirt yanked him toward him, kneed him in the stomach and downed him with a right cross and moved onto the next willing opponent. Peripherally he could see Alec, who was blocking the punches coming his way, childishly easy. Punches thrown by two men _at the same time_. Then as if he were bored, Alec delivered a right cross to one of his opponents and then a left hook to the other man's stomach. He casually stepped over the fallen men to take on the next foolish batch of Ordinaries.

Gritting his teeth at Alec and Sam's protective routine, at their sheer greediness for all of the fun, Dean skirted to the left of Sam's brawling match, winced in sympathy as he watched Sam take a jab to the face. Then he was free and clear, had a man of his own to take on, recognized him as the one who had said Alec deserved to be in a cage. "Glad you saved yourself for me," he lowly greeted even as he smirked, fire raging in his eyes, retribution ready to be unleashed. Dean heard Sam's panicked call of his name but he ignored his little brother's worries for him, instead he growled as he stepped forward. The left cross came at him like everything was in slow motion and his body, for the first time in weeks, responded like it should, like he had trained it to do. Blocking the blow with his forearm, Dean slid his hand down, grabbed the man's wrist and yanked it down to his side. Pinning the man's arm between his arm and his body, he unleashed a left cross to his trapped prey, followed it with another cross and another. Sensing that the guy had had enough, he released the man's arm, shoved him backwards and, for good measure, sent a kick into the man's shin that had him stumbling backward to land onto an empty table.

Reveling in his victory even as he struggled to get his breath back from his exertion, Dean leaned over, rested one hand on his leg and pressed the other to his chest where a burning ache was spreading. Sensing danger a moment too late, he straighten up only to move right into position of the left cross headed his way. Unprepared for the blow, his body still far from healed, his strength no where near normal, and his left leg not yet up to the task of stabilizing his stance under pressure, he took the punch like a chump. He was fighting to stay conscious even as he knew he was destined for a rough landing on the floor.

Cursing stubborn brothers, Sam had reached out and tried to snag Dean's shirt as Dean stalked by him, had called his brother's name but Dean hadn't even acknowledged it. And when he tried to break free of his own fight to prevent Dean from getting into the fray, he had been deterred by a knee to his gut and a left jab to his right cheek. Now having earned his perimeter of personal space, he stood there, breathing hard, a little more bloody and unsteady, his hands aching and his eyes scanning the room. It took him a moment before he saw Dean, watched in concern as Dena leaned over. Called out a "No!" as he saw Dean ambushed by the left cross, then he was shoving people out of his way to get to his brother's side.

Like a hurricane, Alec blew through the throng of fighters to catch Dean in his arms, to keep his brother off the ground. Cringed as Dean's momentum and his own sent Dean's chin colliding into his collarbone, causing Dean to nearly fold in his arm. Cursing, Alec bent down a little to halt Dean's descent. Gently but firmly, he pulled Dean up to his full height and spun him around so Dean's back wasn't to his enemies. His own back he left open, cared very little what happened to him as long as Dean was safe. It left them both a front row seat to Sam's reprisal.

Steamrolling his way toward the man who had sucker punched Dean, Sam shut out the sounds and sights around him, focused on the prey in his sights. The man attacked first, sent his left cross his way like he had to Dean. But Sam was ready for it, wasn't _hurt _like Dean was. He used his forearm to halt the blow, let his eyes sear into the man's for a few heartbeats, wanted the man to know this was personal, all the way. Then he ruthlessly landed a right cross, a left cross and finished it all up with an uppercut. His _killer_ uppercut. The uppercut he didn't bring out to play unless he was truly pissed and wished to annihilate his opponent. And annihilate it did. It sent the man flying backwards to crash into two tables and then topple to the floor, unconscious.

Seeing that the mob was dispirited, maybe even afraid, Alec, arm still wrapped around Dean, started backing himself and Dean toward the door, latched onto Sam's shirt as they started to pass by him. "Time to leave," Alec ordered, his Manticore soldier mode springing to life as he gave Sam a harder pull until his brother broke from his enraged stupor, looked his way. "Sam, we have to get out of here before the cops show."

Sam nodded his head, and stumbled a moment, felt Dean and Alec's hands come to rest on his shoulder to steady him. "I'm alright," he reassured but his eyes were on Dean. Needed to make sure that Dean was alright, knew it was also crucial that Dean believed him when he said he was alright.

Dean nodded his head as much in acceptance of Sam's claim as in answer to the question in his brother's eyes. Then he straightened away from Alec, wasn't surprised when Alec and Sam latched onto his shirt as if they expected him to either fall down or engage the enemy again. "Alec is right," he voiced, eyes on the crowd that was edging backwards now. "We're done here." Then he turned around and walked toward the door, knew that Sam and Alec, they had his back. Knew that they always had each other's backs. It was just what family did.

Stepping out of the bar into the crisp night air, Dean drew in a breath, was rewarded with his lungs working like they were supposed to, though there was still a twinge of discomfort in his chest at the exhale. Watched as Alec kicked off the bar's doorknob, ensuring that the bar patrons didn't continue their 'we hate transgenics' rally into the parking lot. Turning around, intending to lead the march to the Impala, he wasn't prepared to have Alec's fingers clamping down on his arm, halting his progress. Or, in the next second, to have his two brothers suddenly looming over him, very much in his personal space.

In unison, Sam and Alec worriedly demanded, "Are you alright?"

Gently, Sam grabbed Dean's chin and turned his brother's head. Scanning over Dean's features with his trained eyes, he took stock of the bruising starting to make an appearance on his brother's right cheekbone. Didn't dislodge his grip even when Dean's hand wrapped around his wrist, only did so when Dean leveled his 'you keep touching me and you're going to get a serious beat down' look at him. Sighing, Sam slid his touch from Dean's face but didn't step back, refused to give Dean the opportunity to skirt by him and downplay any new or aggravated injuries.

Released from Sam's big paw, Dean shifted on his feet, saw Alec and Sam tense as if they were prepared to take him to the mat if he tried to dodge away from them. Rolling his eyes, he catered to their needs. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright," he grumbled but then a full fledged smile lit up his features. "Dudes, that was great! I'm officially off the bench!" he crowed. The adrenaline still thrumming through him, the feel of being alive, at having proof that he was clawing his way back to his usual strength, it made him smile widely even as Sam and Alec scowled harder.

"Not quite slugger," Sam shut him down almost instantly, resolve in his tone and the parental look he bestowed on Dean. "You just got to hit a few strays from the sidelines during the game, that's all." Unwilling to allow Dean to take this as his all clear sign, to think he was up to hunting, that he didn't have to pace himself anymore or make sure someone was around when he did his physical training exercises. "You're still keeping the bench warm."

Dean sent a glare to Sam at the analogy, at the mothering that Sam was not relinquishing, even in light of his actions that night. He wasn't helpless anymore, didn't need his little brothers standing guard over him, night and day. Was anxious to take back his big brother mantle. Alec's words derailed his argumentative comeback.

Pulling back from Dean and Sam, Alec paced behind them a moment. He tried to calm himself down, to get to the point where he could speak instead of shout. "You two," he began, pointing to each brother in turn, "make absolutely no sense, you know that?! One minute you're packing my bags for me and the next you're tracking me down and risking your life to defend my "honor.""

"Packing your bags? What does that mean?" Dean shot back, confusion and effrontery in his tone and the look that he sent Alec's way.

Alec shook his head, paced some more before he stilled and raised his hand dramatically, "I heard you." But when Dean's eyebrows simply rose further and Sam's brow creased in confusion, he lowly bit out, "That you think I should go back to my own _kind_."

The word, the emphasis sliced into Dean, had him stepping toward Alec, anger in his low growl, "Your _kind_?!"

Hating that he needed to spell it out, Alec gave a bitter laugh at their miscommunication, even when it came to insults and betrayals and goodbyes. "You _said_ I was different," his eyes shifted to Sam, dreading the evidence even as he needed it to sever the ties, to truly be able to at least _attempt_ to move on, to leave like they wanted him to. The way Sam's face lost all color was verification enough, told him that Sam had meant what he said, all of it. Every last word.

Eyes swiveling between Alec and Sam, it took Dean a moment to catch up to his brothers' train of thought. But when it became clear, when he knew what Alec had heard, had thought they were saying, he stepped closer to Alec, met his brother's pained eyes and tersely refuted, "We didn't mean Manticore different."

Sam hurriedly jumped into the conversation. Was shamed that Alec had heard his words, had misunderstood them, had taken them as reproof, as betrayal instead of the acceptance and the love that they represented. "You have options yet, Alec. That's what I meant. You don't have to live this life." But Alec's eyes tightened in confusion at that reference. "The life of a hunter, always on the road, always in danger."

And Sam couldn't help but look to Dean, needed to know how badly his efforts to keep his little brother safe had hurt his big brother. However, Dean didn't meet his eyes. Instead Dean turned away, from him and from Alec. Was a heartbeat away from leaving them both. Escaping from the two people he loved most…and who were seemingly ganging up on him, were eager to abandon him. '_Crap, that's not true Dean. It's never been easy to leave you, no matter how I or Dad made it seem. And it won't be easy on Alec_,' Know how true that was with just one look in Alec's eyes as his words finally began to resonate through the younger man.

The breath trapped in Alec's lungs because, Sam, he wasn't shoving him away…he was letting him go, just like Max had. His brother wanted him to make his own choice, wanted him to be happy, even if he found it somewhere other than with him, with his family. Alec couldn't help but follow Sam's lead, to look to Dean. Had to see if Dean felt the same way, that maybe he had misunderstood all of it. That his older brother didn't want him to go after all, didn't want him to change for them, or even _into_ them. But Dean wouldn't meet his eyes anymore than he would meet Sam's. Left trying to decipher Dean's emotions, he saw the jump in his brother's jaw, detected the way Dean held himself taunt, as if he was willing himself to stand there and endure whatever the outcome was.

Not trusting his analysis of Dean's emotions, Alec shifted his look to Sam, saw the expectancy in his brother's eyes, knew that Sam was encouraging him to make his choice. But it was a choice he had already made, months ago. Had subconsciously made when he followed Sam out of that jail in Seattle, had first climbed into the back of the Impala, had made when he realized that he had brothers. Brothers who would risk their lives to break him out of jail, brothers who had taught him how to hunt, brothers who had been determined to keep him with them, even when it would have been easier, safer to leave him behind.

"Danger doesn't bother me," Alec boasted with a wave of his hand. "And being on the road? Considering I haven't seen much besides the inside walls of Manticore and the streets of Seattle, I'm all for road tripping." He was encouraged when his little speech got Dean's head turning his way, slowly but surely. "And as for the hunting, thought that was the family business: saving people, hunting things. How can I get the family logo shirt if I'm not part of the family…" he meant to tack on 'business' but couldn't, said instead what was truth. That if he wasn't hunting, wasn't by his brothers' sides, it felt like he wasn't part of them, part of their family, part of his own family.

Finally facing Alec, reading the need for approval, his approval in his little brother's eyes, Dean assured, "You don't have to hunt to be part of the family, Alec." Then his eyes strayed a moment to Sam, to let Sam know that just because he stopped hunting and went to Stanford, they had still been brothers, had always been brothers. Refocusing on Alec, he firmly pointed out, "We're brothers and nothing is going to change that, Alec. Nothing. What Sam wants… and what I want is for you to be happy. And Sam's right, this life, our family business, it's not unicorns and rainbows, man. It's pretty craptastic on the best of days," he depreciatingly pointed out, tacked on a bitter laugh. "If my Dad hadn't dragged me into it at such a young age…" but he stopped there, shot a shamed look at Sam who was looking at him with something akin to sympathy. Returning his look to Alec, he qualified, "What I'm saying is, don't throw your life away on hunting, man. Not when you have a shot at being safe." And it hurt, letting Alec go even as he knew in his heart it was the right thing to do, like letting Sam go to Stanford and his Dad split in Chicago. It was crappy but sometimes leaving him was the safest course of action for the people he loved.

Sam bit his lip, fought down his own emotions because he knew what this was costing Dean, what Dean was sacrificing. Knew it was prompted out of love, selfless love at that. Just like Dean's crossroad deal had been. Was about saving the ones Dean loved at the cost of Dean's own happiness.

"Safe?" Alec repeated, scratching his head, eyes down a moment before they met Dean's. "Do I really look like the type of guy who wants _safe_?" he asked, eyebrows arching as if it was a rhetoric question, an insulting notion. "Safe is boring. Safe is sitting around _waiting_ to grow old. Being safe is…" but he halted, swallowed. Dropping his light tone, his walls, his safeguards, he looked at his brothers stripped of his defenses, "Safe is worth nothing if I'm not with my family."

"What about Max? Joshua?" Dean quietly asked, wasn't willing to celebrate victory just yet. Not until the last loopholes were sealed up nice and tight and he knew, without a doubt, that Alec wasn't going anywhere.

Alec smiled smugly, "Max has threatened me bodily harm if we don't pay a visit in a few months. And Josh, he's got dog empowerment going on since he's 2nd in command. Probably doesn't even know I'm gone."

"Yeah he does," Sam refuted softly, eyes warm as they met Alec's. "You sure this is what you want?" he quietly persisted, didn't want Alec to live with regrets, to wonder what could have been, to feel like he couldn't have it both ways, them and his TC family.  
Dean held his breath as Sam's inquiry hung in the air, as he watched Alec's features shift from lighthearted to contemplative.

Alec stepped forward then, put a hand on Sam's shoulder and Dean's and drawled, "You think I would bail on someone as _hot_ as Max if I wasn't serious about going on this brother road trip with you two?"  
"Good point," Dean and Sam voiced their agreement simultaneously. Because yeah, Alec was a Winchester, he knew that hot women, they weren't to be dismissed lightly.

"Ok, then, let's hit the road," Alec said with a wide smile. Pulling his hands free of his brothers, he started walking for the Impala.

Sharing a look, Sam and Dean broke into matching smiles.

"You're going to regret this after being stuck listening to Dean's music 24/7," Sam called out to Alec's back.

"No, you're going to regret this after Sam gets toxic in the car!" Dean contradicted, matching Sam's gait as they started to follow Alec's lead.

"No, I won't," Alec quietly, sincerely vowed. And he meant it, with all his heart. Just the few hours he had spent contemplating what his life would be like without his brothers, without being a Winchester, it was a few hours too many. He now knew, with desperate certainty, that he would never let that become reality, would fight to his last breath to stay with his brothers, to be a Winchester. That his days of leaving, of getting out while the getting was good, of skipping out on people before he could hurt them…or they could hurt him, those days were over. Forever. He was home and he wasn't going anywhere.

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TBC

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Thanks for everyone's wonderful compliments and encouragements on last chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	24. Chapter 24

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story. Nor do I own any rights to the lyrics of "Next Contestant."

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Well, after a ton of rewrites, here's the next chapter. I'm crossing my fingers that it's entertaining.

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Chapter 24

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Alec, having extorted the right to be the designated driver by boldly playing the little brother card, pulled the Impala to a stop outside the cabin and cut the rumbling engine. A collective sigh of relief erupted from the brothers, because the cabin; it felt like a sanctuary. Offered them a home for the night, a place where they could be brothers, didn't have to fight for that familial right, not anymore. A right that was bestowed: freely, willingly, eagerly, permanently.

In synch, they all began to climb from the car, the creaks of the doors creating their own harmony in the night. But Dean's motions were stiff, the drive from the bar having allowed his pathetically weak, apparently overtaxed muscles to tighten up on him. Using the door, he levered himself to his feet, felt Sam hovering at his back and Alec's eyes on him as his younger brother came around the front of the vehicle. "I'm fine, little stiff," he lowly stated, hoping his admission would get his brothers to drop their nursemaid acts.

Meeting Sam's worried look over Dean's shoulder, Alec reassured, "I'll check his stitches. Make sure he didn't tear any." Purposefully ignored the glare his words evoked from his eldest brother because Dean, he could downplay his pain all he wanted but Alec wasn't going to forget the damage done to his brother's body any time soon…like never. So Dean could save his 'I'm fine,' for someone else, someone who had not been covered in his blood, hadn't put more stitches in his flesh than a quilt could boast, hadn't sat by his bedside _praying _he didn't die.

"I didn't," Dean growled, turning up the heat of his glare on Alec as he slammed the car door shut with more force than he would tolerate from anyone else. But he hated that his brothers were once again having a conversation _about_ him, not with him. "Newsflash: I can hear you. And guess what? I can talk for myself."

"You hear anything?" Sam innocently asked, tilting his head as if there was a whisper on the wind.

Mirroring Sam's actions, Alec paused a moment before he began ticking off his list, "Frog…crickets…wait! There! Maybe a hint of whining."

"Jerks. You're both jerks," Dean grumbled, making his way toward the stairs of the cabin, his brothers' laughter trailing close behind him, too close. He could practically feel their breath hitting his back. And when his foot landed on the first step, he was instantly sandwiched between Alec and Sam. Coming to a halt, he did a jaw clench and reminded himself that good big brothers didn't bury their little brothers out in the woods. "Dudes, seriously. I'm fine. Maybe you didn't notice but I was holding my own back there."

"Yeah, and now you're paying for it. Even you admit that you're stiff and you might have pulled some stitches," Sam snapped back, because, for him, it was always a fine line between worry and anger when it came to Dean being hurt. Especially when his brother denied that he was in any pain. And considering he had tried his hardest to keep Dean safe and his brother had undermined all his efforts, his anger and frustration seemed justifiable…until he saw the stung look in Dean's eyes. It made him instantly regret the harshness of his words, because, though this was a battle he was set to win, he hadn't meant to belittle Dean to achieve a victory. Gentling his tone, he bared his worry, "Dean, excuse us for being a little concerned, but can you blame us? We almost lost you…"

Alec leaned forward spoke in Dean's ear, "I say we've earned the right to be a little overprotective."

"A little?" Dean protested over his shoulder, eyes colliding with Alec's.

Sam shook his head at the stubbornness of his two brothers. Knew that Dean would never willingly allow anyone to care for him to the depth that he took care of those he loved. It just wasn't in his makeup. "Alright, time out you two. You can continue this debate later in the week …when I'm out taking a walk in the woods or something," he lightly refereed, wasn't prepared for Dean's sharp focus to rapidly swing his way.

"But there's that hunt…" Dean began to protest, preparing to roll out the 'people's lives are at stake' song and dance.

Seeing an opening for a win, Sam announced, "I already called Bobby. He gave it to a hunter in the area." And he had honestly tried to keep the smugness out of his voice but by Alec's smirk and Dean's baleful frown, he knew he hadn't been successful. At all. "Come on, Dean! You're not up for it. Not yet."

"I said I would just do _research_," Dean shot back, turned his head to drill holes in Alec when his younger brother snorted.

"You, research? Yeah, right," Alec scoffed, eyes flickering from Dean's look of offense to Sam's smirk.

"What? I research!" Dean defensively snapped, stomping up the stairs to the porch landing. Trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and shoulders and conceal the tinge of pain shooting up his leg, he stalked for the door, all the while hating that his body was proving his brothers' point for them.

Fearful that, if Dean made it through the door, the conversation would escalate into something bitter, Alec reached out and gripped Dean's arm. He accompanied his touch with a gentle, imploring, "Dean, just listen. Please." Though he could feel the tension in Dean, his brother stopped and faced him, gave him his attention simply because he asked for it.

Touched by his brother's capitulation and sensing the real harm he could inflict with the wrong words, Alec shifted his stance from stiff, determined to loose, reasonable and let his voice fall to calm, understanding but not mocking. Didn't think he could ever mock his brother's abilities or loyalties. "I'm not questioning your ability to research, Dean. But I'm down right disbelieving the notion that you would sit on your hands back in some motel while Sam and I went on a hunt, would be in danger, without you there to have our backs."

At Alec's words, Dean looked away, refused to confirm or deny his brother's claim.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Alec earnestly appealed. "Tell me you would be fine with that and we'll dig up another hunt. Tomorrow," he vowed and then he held his breath, waited for Dean to either tell him the truth or lie to him.

And it was strange; after all they had been through, how strongly they felt about each other, Alec honestly didn't know if Dean truly trusted him deep down. Sure, Dean trusted him to have his back in a fight, but Alec didn't know if his brother trusted him enough to let him past his reinforced steel barriers to his heart, to where he was most vulnerable. To someplace Alec knew that even Sam could only travel with the lightest of treads.

Alec wasn't blind to what he was asking, especially from someone as guarded as Dean was, as hurt as Dean had been. It was a colossal request, he knew that but it didn't stop him from wanting Dean's trust, badly. He still remembered how it felt to have Sam let him walk into the warehouse where White had Dean, alone. To trust him to save Dean, to protect Dean, to not lose what was most precious to him in this life. It had given him strength and the greatest fear, Sam's trust, Sam's belief in him, Sam's love for him. He had pleaded with Sam to trust him to get Dean away from White alive. And now he was _demanding_ Dean to trust him…as if it were something he deserved, as if it was owed him…as if he hadn't proven himself unworthy of trust at every turn.

Manticore had taught him to earn trust only to betray it. And he had been at the top of his class. Had earned Rachel's trust only to kill her, had earned Max's trust only to lead her into a trap to kill Logan, had earned Josh's trust only to try and kill him to save his own life. Had earned just enough of Dean's trust for his brother to ask him to kill him to save him from hell and he had broken that vow too, for his own selfish reasons. '_And you honestly think Dean should trust you, let you see his weaknesses so you can exploit them like you always do.'_

But Alec felt sick at the thought. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his brothers. He wanted to _protect _them. Wanted to make sure no one breached Dean's walls, and hurt him where he was vulnerable. Not even him. Maybe especially him. Told himself that he only wanted to know where the emotional landmines were so he didn't inadvertently trip them. But it felt like a lie. Was a lie. It was about protecting Dean, yes, but it was more about him wanting…needing to be connected to Dean. '_But that isn't something Dean's ready to give you…and it's not something you can steal, or batter for …or demand._'

Knowing that he had to drop his demand for what could be only granted by choice, Alec's eyes flickering away from Dean's profile. Glibly, he began to retract with a half smile as he started to head for the door, "Course I shouldn't underestimate the appeal of research. Just because I rather watch paint dry on one of Joshua's painting doesn't mean…" Dean's hand on his forearm forestalled his motion and his words. His chest felt tight as Dean drew up beside him Standing there, not looking at Dean, he felt a wave of hope sweep over him. His brother's proximity told him that all was not lost, that he was still a part of Dean.

Almost recognizing too late the need in Alec for his honestly, for his trust, Dean grabbed for Alec before his brother could walk away thinking he didn't trust him, that the bond they had was faltering. When the truth was, it was growing stronger each day. Felt that it had always been part of him, that Alec had never not been a member of his family. Drawing up to Alec's side, he hated the vulnerability and hurt pouring off of his little brother. Letting his shoulders fall and his fighting stance melt away, he retorted but there was affection even in the barb, "Course I wouldn't be fine with you and Sam being in danger without me," his tone conveying that it was a crazy notion, one Alec should know without being told. "You lose some grey matter tonight or what?" he taunted but the hand he reached out to trace the bruises marring his brother's face was gentle, his sarcasm lending itself as an excuse to check Alec over. He smirked when Alec sorrowful look melted away and his brother playfully swatted his hand away. Then he retreated into the house, knew without looking that his brothers were sharing a gloating look of victory behind his back.

And Dean was right, Sam was sharing a look of victory with Alec but there was also love and gratitude and happiness. Sam had felt a little choked up watching the interaction between his brothers, knew what was at stake by the vulnerable look in Alec's eyes. That Alec hadn't just made a random challenge, was testing the waters, measuring the limits of the ties he had with Dean, with him. Knew that the foundation of Alec and Dean's relationship, even his relationship with Alec would either be damaged or fortified by whatever happened between his brothers in that moment. Of course, Dean had hit it out of the park. Had been what he had always been to Sam all his life: big brother, protector, anchor, partner, best friend, the one person he could always count on, even when the rest of the world was out to get him. And Dean had conveyed the greatest love with a few truthful, yet caustically delivered words, a light touch hidden behind a taunt and the warm, affection look in his eyes. All in all: A standard Chick Flick moment a la Dean Winchester.

Seeing the bewildered, overwhelmingly happy look on Alec's face, Sam couldn't help slinging an arm around Alec's shoulders. He drew his little brother close…and gave him a duck rub on the top of his head. He laughed as Alec broke free, gave him a light shove and then followed Dean into the cabin. Sometimes Sam couldn't get over how happy he was, how blessed he felt. Was a one hundred and eighty degree reversal from a few years ago…or even a month ago. Had come to see that he wasn't cursed as much as he was blessed. And that had everything to do with the people he loved. Without trying to wipe away the loopy smile from his face, he entered the cabin on Alec's heels, saw that, typically, Dean had his head in the refrigerator.

"Man, I'm starving," Dean groused, his voice muffled.

"Might have something to do with us skipping dinner," Sam lightly suggested, shooting a look to Alec, watching his brother's face morph into surprise and pleasure. '_Yeah, Alec. You rate above food for us. Even for Dean._'

The warmth Alec felt already intensified. Not only had his brothers gotten into a bar fight over him, they had been worried enough about him to skip dinner, to go out looking for him…for hours. At this blatant proof of just how much his brothers loved him, coupled with Dean's willingness to trust him, Alec didn't think he could be any happier. "I'll make spaghetti and garlic bread," he stated matter-of-factly, wanted to show his own devotion to his brothers, to their family. Knew that, whatever his family needed, he would move heaven and earth to make sure they got it. Even if it was something as simple as dinner. Heading, to the cabinets, he pulled out the spaghetti noodles.

At Alec's declaration, Dean straightened up out of the refrigerator, wore a look of delight. "You do that, I will love you forever."

"You bet you will," Alec shot back, wearing a smirk on his face and his heart on his sleeve, fully planning on holding Dean to that particular oath. When his brother's eyes met his, they conveyed Dean's 100% agreement to do just that.

"If only the women in Dean's life knew spaghetti was the way to his heart," Sam sighed dramatically, pulling a pan from the cabinet.

Instead of denying Sam's slam, Dean countered with a wide, open smile, "Food is always the way into my heart. Why do you think I dig waitresses so much?"

"You are a pig," Sam laughed, beginning to fill the two quart pan with water.

Enjoying his brothers bantering, Alec headed to the refrigerator, but did a stopover long enough to grip Dean by the arms and push him into a chair all the while ignoring Dean's "easy with the merchandise" "control freak," comments. Reaching the refrigerator, he pulled out the hamburger, tomato sauce and grated cheese.

Having been manhandled into one of the chairs at the table and knowing that Alec would cut off any attempts he made to rise, Dean sighed, "You know I was in that bar and I got nothing to drink. Didn't get a _drop_." Suddenly a pitcher of ice tea was placed on the table in front of him by Alec. "Great, tea, my favorite," he sarcastically drawled. "Am I just swigging this from…" but Sam sat an empty glass under his nose before he could continue his rant. Offering Sam a frustrated close mouthed smile, Dean poured himself a glass of tea, hated that his arm trembled at the strain of the action. _'I_ c_an punch some guy but get all weak pouring my own drink, just great. Man I need to start weight training, running, getting back my mojo._'

Draining his glass, he felt almost too tired to pour another, to lift his other hand from the table. Found that he didn't have to when Sam appeared, played waitress and refilled his glass before filling two other glasses. "Thanks," he offered, taking a sip of the refill as Sam handed Alec a full glass, received thanks from that quarter as well before he left the room.

Hearing Alec tinkering behind him and Sam rustling in the next room, Dean felt contentment settle over him. Alec wasn't leaving, Sam seemed pretty set on sticking by his side and they were safe, at least for the moment. They were watching out for each other, sticking together, making dinner like normal people did. It was the closest he had ever come to feeling like he had a family again, since Sam had left for college, since Dad had died. And it terrified him. Getting what he wanted, being _happy_. It was like slapping a bulls' eye on his chest, asking for the world to end, for his family to be destroyed all over again.

He hadn't heard Sam's soft tread reenter the room amid Alec's clattering behind him. He startled at Sam's gentle, "Hey, you alright?" as his brother claimed a seat at the table. "What? Yeah. Great!" he quickly reassured, did his best showmanship. But Sam's eyes pinned him, begging, like Alec had, for his trust, for him to let him in. Sighing, he bowed his head, rubbed the back of his neck before facing Sam again, but couldn't find the words, didn't want to say them, afraid they were as much a whammy as his happiness.

Sinking into the chair on Dean's left, Alec stilled as he detected the tension in Sam, the despair in Dean. "What? Something else happen?"

Sam flinched and bowed his head to try and shut down his emotional reaction. They were the exact words Dean said after the cruel loop finally abated at the Mystery Spot. And he hadn't truthfully answered Dean then or ever, found he couldn't. Couldn't relive, even for a moment, the terrible, aching loss of being without Dean for six months, of Dean being dead. Of struggling every second to try and find the _desire_ to live without his brother.

Looking up, Sam saw that he had drawn the attention of both of his brothers. He gave a shaky laugh that nearly turned into a sob, "I can't do this, again," he confessed, didn't care that a tear slipped down his cheek as he looked to Dean. And it was equal parts comforting and heartbreaking to see Dean's warm, affectionate gaze giving him that unfailing promise to protect him. "Lose you or Alec. Not to some drunk in a bar…or some deal…or some friggin' time loop or some covert military group that doesn't have a name." And he felt like his breath was trapped in his chest, like he would either die of suffocation or shatter apart.

"I know," Dean quietly agreed, felt both glad and saddened that Sam felt the same way he did at that moment: happy and terrified, safe and utterly vulnerable. "This all feels too…."

"Good," Alec supplied, earning his brothers' surprised looks. "Hey, it's not like my life has been Hallmark moments like this. I keep expecting White to be alive and come bursting through the door…"

"Or Lilith to come smoking in…" Sam added, hands clenching on the table. Reminding himself that he had killed Lilith, by his own hand, that she wouldn't be back to try and reclaim Dean's soul. Ever.

"Or a hell hound to show up," Dean supplied with a snort. The brothers shared chagrin expressions before they all broke into smiles and light laughter. "We're pathetic, you know that? We're finally together, safe …"

"And we're too scared to let ourselves enjoy it," Sam bitterly chastised, but the feeling wouldn't leave him. His survival instincts to protect himself from hurt, guard himself from pain that would cripple him was coiled tightly in his soul. Knew that if he ever lost Dean again…or lost Alec, though his body might not die, his soul surely would.

"I let Manticore manipulate me through fear my whole life. I never thought love could do the same thing…" Alec revealed with a sad smile.

"We're acting like cowards," Dean hissed out, hating himself for the fear that made tying himself even tighter to Sam and Alec seem a risk too great. "What are we even fighting for if not to get this," he growled, hand waving to the three or them, together, safe, happy. "We're earned it, haven't we?!"

"It sure wasn't freely given," Alec scoffed, voice taunt at the memories of all they had gone through together, how many times they had almost lost each other. Knew that Max was right, gaining his freedom from Manticore was about getting this moment: having a family, being happy. That taking out White had had more about ensuring his family's safety than about revenge, no matter how sweet. Yes, he had fought for this happiness, even when he didn't ever dream it was a possibility, when he knew nothing about Dean, Sam, about family, had just the desire, the hole in his soul which nothing had ever filled. Before now. "And I'm not giving it up," he lowly announced, eyes meeting his brothers.

"We fought to get it, so what if we have to fight to keep it?! We fight for strangers all the time. We can fight for ourselves. As often and as hard as we have to," Sam rationalized, voice growing stronger with conviction.

"Guess it wouldn't be our family if we didn't have a fight on our hands?" Dean quietly asked but there was agreement in his eyes, even hope.

"Good thing we're good at fighting then, huh?" Alec smirked, the bar scene again replaying in his head.

"Absolutely," Dean and Sam concurred with conviction. And suddenly, happiness, family: those things didn't seem like a risk but the safest bet in the world.

SNDASNDASNDASN

After they were all stuffed, Alec shooed Dean into the living room to relax while he put away the leftovers and Sam started to clear the table. Closing the refrigerator door, he shot a look into the other room, saw that Dean was claiming the lounge chair in the living room and most likely not hear him from where he sat. Leaning against the counter, he watched Sam stack the dishes on the counter and begin to draw some water to wash them.

"You think I'm going to regret staying, not going back to Max, don't you?" he quietly asked, saw the way his brother's back tightened at his words.

Shutting off the water, Sam faced Alec. "No," but at Alec's probing look, he amended, "I hope not. I just don't want you to wonder about the could have beens…"

"Like you would have if you hadn't gone to Stanford?" Alec softly asked, struggled to not level any accusation at Sam for his choice, to ignore the tightness in his chest at the thought of making the decision Sam once had, of leaving his family behind…for years. Knew this was a conversation he didn't want Dean to hear, not since he had detected the slight rift between Dean and Sam whenever Stanford or college or their four year separation was acknowledged. Was a fissure between his brothers that it hurt him to see, wished he could mend somehow even as he knew he couldn't. It wasn't his place to, whether he was their brother or not.

Shooting a look to Dean, reassuring himself that his voice wouldn't carry to his brother, Sam turned fully to Alec, quietly admitted, "Crazy as if sounds, I would have never realized what my family meant to me if I had stayed. I was blinded by my frustration, my hatred of the life I was forced to live. A life that I thought was worse than anyone else's." He paused, tried to read the shift in Alec's stance, to brace himself for his brother's condemnation but Alec remained silent, gave him a look he couldn't decipher. "Alec, I know, what you've gone through…the way you were…raised, it makes my life look like a gift in comparison. And it was…but I had to leave to see that, had to see the world on my own. Had to realize that, what all those 'normal' people had, it was shabby compared to what I had, what I threw away. Could never match up to what my Dad…and Dean gave me, did for me…how deeply they loved me. I mean, you think there's another guy out there who would sell his soul to save his brother?" he tried to joke but it came out choked, his brother's actions meant too much to him to come off sounding offhanded.

"Well I know of two other brothers," Alec countered, earning a soft, sad smile from Sam. Then he exhaled and shook his head. "It's pathetic but, the way Manticore trained me, treated me, I never rebelled against it. Just thought that was the way the world worked. Didn't know there was more to life than taking orders, being either commended or reprimanded for my actions. Thought that, earning my superior's trust, even Lydecker's trust, that was the best thing in my world. Until Rachel…until I realized that there was something missing…in me. Love, happiness…family. I didn't know what those things were…but I was starting to think I wanted them." He shook his head, rubbed his hand over his mouth nervously, "And we all know how well that turned out…"

"Alec, it wasn't your fault," Sam insisted. "You tried to save her. It was Manticore that blew up the car, not you."

"I was a means to an end…literally. And losing Manticore's trust…." Alec snorted and bowed his head but didn't continue. Vividly remembered Lydecker's words. "_You have to prove that the small trust we have in you isn't misplaced, that you don't really deserve to be down in the dungeons with the rest of the failures.' _And he had seen the failures…had heard their cries of agony and fear, first hand. Had been among their number after the Berrisford assignment, had been reminded, time and again, that if his superiors couldn't trust him they would have no use for him. Knew the outcome after watching the cool execution of an entire X-6 unit that had proven itself useless.

But now, he knew that there was something worse to fear than uselessness, than reindoctrination, than death: To be proven untrustworthy in the eyes of his brothers. Raising his eyes to meet Sam's concern expression, he admitted, "You are right, I'm not like you, Sam."

"I didn't mean that in a bad way…" Sam protested, wished Alec hadn't overheard his conversation with Dean..had instead been a part of the conversation.

"I know," Alec quietly assured, a weak smile on his face. "Doesn't make it any less true. Just not in the way you meant it. I've lived without a family, never thought I would ever have one, Sam. Didn't think I was good enough for one."

"Alec," Sam objected but Alec cut him off.

"Just let me get this out, Sam," Alec implored, waited until he saw the capitulation in Sam's stance before he spoke. "All my life, I've been just trying to survive to see another day: To not fail Manticore, to not get killed on an assignment, to not get killed by White. But with you and Dean, for the first time, I saw that there was more to being alive than surviving. That having someone to care about…having someone care about me…it changed everything. Changed me. And it's scary, letting myself vulnerable, letting you two in…but thinking about living without that, leaving…Thinking about that tonight.." his voice caught, "For the first time, surviving seemed a crappy hand to be dealt."

And Sam understood only too well what Alec was saying, had felt that way after Dean died in the Tricksters game…could feel that dark cloud settling on his soul as he sat beside Dean's bed, watching his brother fight for every second of life. But he also loved Alec enough to give him the option for all he ever wanted instead of just a portion of what he wanted. "You really could have both: Max, TC and us. Watching Dean with you tonight," and he broke off because it affected him, seeing Dean reacting to Alec's possible departing. His voice was thick when he continued, "I realized that I could have had both too. Dean would have allowed me that, him and Stanford. If I had asked…if I had handled things differently…if I had said the right things instead of all the wrong things. It doesn't have to be Max or us."

"I know but I want this, us," Alec bluntly stated. But felt guilty for seemingly not considering Max in all of this, in the life he wanted. "Max means a lot to me but …" '_you guys mean more_.'

Misinterpreting Alec's silence, Sam filled in, "You need some space from her, need to figure out your feelings? Yeah, women take some figuring out."

Not correcting Sam's assumption, Alec replied with a smirk, "Yeah." But, as right as he knew his choice was, he also knew it was the riskiest thing he had ever dared. That, if it failed, if he failed, there would be no making it better. No moving on like he had the delusional thought to do tonight, before he bound himself more tightly to his brothers, to his family. "Just lie to me, tell me this is the worst it's ever going to get," Alec lowly entreated, unable to fathom going through what they had with Dean ever again, being faced with the possibility of losing one or both of his brothers.

Exhaling and shifting his feet, Sam drawled, "Well, we have some rounding up to do after we let the devil's gate open. Then there's the ghosts, wendigos, shapeshifters, reapers, random curses, tricksters, bored or hungry gods, campfire legends…"

Alec shook his head and cut off Sam's catalog of foes, "So what you're saying is, enjoy the peace and quiet right here and now."

"Ah yeah," Sam concurred with a small smile.

Faced with the prospect of more gut wrenching fear in the future, Alec asked with desperate hope, "Think we can convince Dean to stay here a few more weeks?"

"You mean _convince_? As in change his mind…with words or logic?" Sam drawled, heavy on the 'you've got to be kidding'.

Laughing at Sam's incredulous tone, Alec still replied in the affirmative, "Yeah."

"No," Sam shortly replied but then a deviously smile began making an appearance. "But I'm not opposed to conning him into staying."

"Conning?" Alec repeated, raising his eyebrows even as his smile began to match Sam's. "I'm liking the sound of this."

Then Dean's voice calling from the other room startled them, as if their brother was already catching them in the act of their con. "Sam, your favorite movie is on: Beaches."

"Bite me!" Sam hollered back but there was joy in his eyes and a wide smile on his lips that only Alec was privy to.

"Thought that comeback was off limits, Sammy?" Dean gruffly shot back.

Sam couldn't help but lean out the kitchen and watch Dean's face as he delivered his comeback. "To you, Dean. Not to me. I'm not the one who was a Scooby snack." Dean's scowl was like a well earned reward.

"Nice," Dean growled. "You should have been a therapist, Sam. Course all your patients would commit suicide…" he undertoned the last as Sam merely smiled wider before ducking back into the kitchen.

Retracing his steps back to the sink, Sam was about to start washing the dishes when Alec spoke.

"You're not actually going to wash them tonight are you? I don't think I can stand you switching roles from Rocky to the little woman." Alec got a dishtowel in the face for that quip.

"Fine, you be the little woman and do them tomorrow," Sam taunted, proud of himself for earning a second brotherly scowl to his tally for the night. Giving Alec a smug look of victory, he refilled his tea glass, retrieved something from the freezer and stalked out to join Dean.

Smiling at his successful manipulation of Sam, Alec put himself in super mode. He made quick work of the leftovers, the dishes and the countertop cleanup. Slowing down, he grabbed his glass of tea and casually stepped into the living room in time to watch Sam snap off the tv with a vengeance. Then, turning to his brother at his side on the couch, Sam settled an ice pack against Dean's cheek, pick up Dean's hand and rest it against the pack to keep it in place. Alec almost smiled at the glare Dean tossed over at Sam for his mothering. "Dishes are all done," he smugly announced, cocky smile in place for Sam's benefit.

"Showoff," Sam grumbled, settling back on the couch beside Dean, amazed and a little jealous of Alec's supersonic motion.

"If you got it, flaunt it," Alec brazenly countered. But Dean cut across his self-satisfaction.

"Wrong. You start playing it safe. Cover up that barcode from now on like I keep telling you to," Dean ordered, knowing, with the events of the night, that he finally had some true leverage for his argument.

"Just because you and Sam are ashamed of your tats doesn't mean I am," Alec smart mouthed back, sinking into a chair and resting his feet on the low table beside Sam's and Dean's feet.

Sam readily joined the brotherly fray. "Well our tats don't incite riots. And another thing…" he began as he tossed the Tryptophan pill bottle to Alec, who caught it deftly in his right hand. He returned Alec's confused look with a long suffering sigh. "Yeah, I know that the more you expand energy the more likely it is that you'll have seizures. You would realize that too if you took care of yourself, did a little research about the imbalance in your…"  
"Oh he's got an imbalance alright," Dean eagerly jumped in, earning him a glare from not only Alec but Sam. "What? I'm supposed to pass on an opening like that," he protested to Sam. To Alec he snapped, "Now stop whining and take your pills."

"And you take yours," Sam added, setting a bottle of low dosage pain killers and a bottle of vitamins in front of Dean.

"Did I miss the part of our family history where you switched your major from lawyer to doctor…" Alec groused to Sam, sharing a look of commiseration with Dean for their joint predicament.

"This falls under his Know-It-All BS degree he's still working on," Dean grumbled, giving Sam a close mouthed smile. Then he lowered the ice pack from his face, reached over and gently pressed it against Sam's bruised jawline.

Sam flinched at the contact and the coldness but conceded the battle, knowing that they knew each other too well to get a real advantage. Replacing Dean's hand with his own, he held the icepack to his throbbing jaw, was touched that Dean recognized his pain even though he had another brother to take care of now.

"If anyone has the chops to go the doctor routine, it's me," Alec boasted as he climbed to his feet. Coming around the low table, he claimed a seat beside Dean's feet. "Alright let me see the damage," he ordered, waiving a finger at Dean's chest and the wounds that lay underneath.

"No damage," Dean stated but felt ganged up on when matching frustrated sighs came from Alec and Sam. "Fine," he gave in with ill-grace, pulling his shirt up to reveal the healing, stitched wounds underneath. He involuntarily flinched when Alec's fingers made contact.

Instantly Alec withdrew his hands. "That hurt?" cursing himself for not being more gentle, for hurting Dean instead of…

"Your hands are freezing! Thought you just did the dishes?" Dean complained, wondering about the adage of cold hands, warm heart.

Relieved that Dean wasn't reacting to pain, Alec replied, "Yeah, in cold water. Hot water heater takes a while to heat up,"

"Which is why you thought you should do the dishes instead of me? I'm not delicate, Alec," Sam protested, surprised to find that he now had two brothers sheltering him instead of just one.

"Sure you are, Sammy. Catches colds like nobody's business," Dean tattletaled to Alec with a wink, enjoying the glare Sam sent his way.

Ignoring Sam's tirade and Dean's comeback, Alec lightly traced the stitches on Dean's chest, was relieved that they were all in tact. Tuning out Dean's growl of unhappiness as he pushed Dean's shirt higher to view his brother's shoulders, he found the same good results there. "Ok, lean forward," he ordered, fingers wrapping in Dean's shirtfront as if he intended to pull Dean forward… or simply wanted to keep his brother close.

"You're not serious?" Dean gritted out, but Alec's no-nonsense look was answer enough. Conceding the battle, Dean leaned forward, felt Alec lift his shirt up and the tingle of his brother's hands gently trailing across his wounds before his shirt was pulled down. As he leaned back against the couch, he was surprised to find Alec slipping down to kneel on the carpet. Remained still and silent as Alec pushed up his pant leg and run deft fingers over the stitchwork decorating his leg.

"Satisfied?" Dean tersely demanded, tried to hide how touched he was that Alec cared enough to check him over so thoroughly.

"Yup," Alec smiled up at his brother, shared a relieved look with Sam before he climbed to his feet and took his seat on the chair again. The last of the evening's tension seeping out of him as he leaned back into the cushions, reassured that his family was all in one piece…and all in one place for the foreseeable future, together.

Handing Dean his glass of tea from the table and his two pill bottles, Sam settled back onto the couch, cocked an eyebrow at Alec and dramatically drew his look from his brother down to the bottle of the Tryptophan on the low table and back to Alec's. He watched Alec intently until his little brother grumbled something about lawyers thinking they were doctors and tossed a pill in his mouth followed by a gulp of _his _tea.

Dean, recognizing that Sam was fully entrenched in his mothering role, manned up and swallowed the vitamin and pain pill without more protests. He was prepared for Sam's condescending smile to make an appearance when Sam snagged the glass from his hand and set it down on the table. Instead Sam leaned back on the couch until their shoulders touched, sat there without offering up a word or a gesture of smugness…only radiated contentment. Then companionable silence fell on the three brothers as they drank their teas and nature's nighttime orchestra music slipped in through the open windows.

Alec almost jumped when the icepack landed in his lap, looked up to see Dean pointing to his own eye, silently ordering him where the icepack needed to go. '_From abandoned to suffocated, all in one day,_' he thought as he obediently raised the icepack and rested it against his eye that had been a punching bag for his first contestant that evening. Found he was unable to truly resent the care his brothers were showing to him, not when it made him feel so complete.

"Guess we screwed up tonight, with your Good Samaritan thing," Dean quietly admitted, eyes meeting Alec's.

Lowering the icepack, wanting full eye contact with Dean and Sam, Alec pointed out, "I didn't throw the first punch. Well, not in the first bout. Second bout, yeah, I got the first punch in, was more than happy to do it too," his bold smile expressing that he had no regret for his actions, not after his antagonists had put their sights on his brothers.

"Well technically, we didn't have the right set up for the Good Samaritan routine," Sam imparted, found himself under the matching, raised eyebrow, questioning look of Dean and Alec. "See, in the Bible story, the Samaritan helps a man who has already been beaten up, patches him up when others have walked right by him, pretending to not see that he needs help."

"Ah, so we're doing more than our share," Dean said jokingly. "We're beating them up too. Full service, that's what we're all about. Course I guess that means we forgot the other steps…"

"I enjoyed step number one," Alec admitted, one side of his lips flipping up. "And we're patching up, just happens to be us instead of them. I mean, in the story, how do we know the Samaritan wasn't running a con, you know, hire some thugs to beat the guy up then help him to the healer and charge overpriced rates on ..I don't know, linens and oil and his chamber pot."

"You are just not right," Sam laughed, shaking his head, saw by Dean's expression that he was going to take Alec's side in this tale. "Neither of you are."

"And you're right there with us, geekboy. Cause I _saw_ that uppercut you nailed that guy with!" Dean teased. "Unless that was for medicinal purposes…"

"Yeah…mine," Sam smiled back in return. '_Because I owed that guy for hitting you.'_

"Oh, you're a real humanitarian," Alec mockingly praised, earning a squinted eyed glare from Sam.

"So I say we check out another bar tomorrow night," Dean suggested, anxious to get back fully into the swing of things.

But the vote from his brothers was a unanimous, "No!"

"Killjoys," he grumbled as he sulked back against the couch, already scheming to go for a run tomorrow morning, to prove to his body…and his brothers that he could take charge again.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

TBC

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Thanks to everyone for reading this chapter and for your wonderful support!!

**Slight spoiler**…And for those wondering, Alec and Dean will talk about Alec's vow to use Ruby's knife, it just didn't flow into this chapter like I thought it would.

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	25. Chapter 25

It's in the Genes

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.

Author's note: Well this is actually the final chapter of this tale. I've so loved writing this AU that it's hard to bring it to a conclusion. However, since I've always made a promise to complete any fics I post here, there had to be an end somewhere and this seemed the right spot. Hope you enjoy it! And by the way…sap ahead.

SNDASNDASNDASN

Chapter 25

SNDASNDASNDASN

"So I say we check out another bar tomorrow night," Dean suggested, anxious to get back fully into the swing of things.

But the vote from his brothers was a unanimous, "No!"

"Killjoys," he grumbled as he sulked back against the couch, already scheming to go for a run tomorrow morning, to prove to his body…and his brothers that he could take charge again.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

But Dean's plan, it sputtered and died when he crept quietly into the kitchen at dawn and found Alec sitting at the table, coffee cup in hand and smug smile in place.

"Going somewhere?" Alec greeted, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Ah, yeah, walking to the lake," Dean supplied, heading for the door but Alec was suddenly in the doorway, blocking his exit. "I told you not to go all Speedy Gonzales on me," he growled, taking a step backwards so he wasn't in Alec's personal space.

"If you weren't so stubborn, I wouldn't have to," Alec retorted, shifting to a casual lean in the doorway and folding his arms. "I knew that you would think you were all mended now. Go one round with some lightweight at the bar and…"

"Lightweight?!" Dean sputtered, "Guy was…."

"Not in your league…if you were at your top form," Alec stated, the harshness of the statement buried in the gentleness of his tone and the pride and compliment that the words conveyed. "Which you're not. Not yet."

"And how am I supposed to get there if you and Sam won't let me increase my training, do a little sparring…and running," Dean railed, feeling trapped and useless suddenly again. The confidence of the prior night fading at Alec's roadblock and words, not to mention the stiffness and pain he woke up with.

"Dean…" Alec softly entreated but Dean cut him off.

"And don't tell me how I almost died, that I'm lucky to be alive, that it's going to take time," Dean growled back, stance radiating his frustration. "I've heard all that and I need to know, in my gut, that I can rebound from this."

"You can," Alec instantly proclaimed, abandoning his slouched position to stand toe to toe with Dean, ready and willing to knock some sense into his brother.

"Yeah, this coming from the genetically empowered one who has super blood coursing through his veins," Dean jeered, shaking his head.

"Which I graciously shared with you…" Alec joked back but could see his humor was unappreciated.

With Alec cutting off his exit, Dean headed to the refrigerator, yanked the door open and retrieved a soda. A soda which Alec promptly snatched from his grip, sat back in the refrigerator and then tossed a bottle of orange juice to him. "What are you my nutritionist now too?!" real anger sparking in the biting words.

"Whatever you need, right? Blood donor, hunting partner, nutritionist," Alec lightly began. But when Dean shouldered by him, headed for the door, he tacked on one more role Dean had asked him to play. "Executioner," the word came out as a harsh accusation but it had been burning in his gut for weeks, setting his soul on fire until it was a ball of flame that he had to either choke out or be consumed by.

Hand raised to push out the door, Dean halted mid-step, felt as if some supernatural force was preventing him from moving…breathing. Suddenly he knew that his past sins were coming due, had consequences as severe as his crossroad deal. Consequences that could cost him his new little brother.

"No job too small…or too big, right?" Alec directed at Dean's back, the lightness he wanted to carry non-existent in his voice.

The anguish in Alec's tone broke through to Dean, gave him the courage to turn around, to look at Alec. Alec gave him that small smile that was supposed to conceal his real emotions but Dean saw the truth in his brother's eyes, saw his brother's pain. Pain he had caused.

Shooting a worried look into the living room, down the hall, Dean lowly said, "Outside" not wanting Sam to be privy to this. Didn't want Sam to know how weak he had been or, under some misplaced loyalty, place any blame on Alec for the promise that he had emotionally blackmailed from him. Walking out of the cabin, he was uncertain if Alec would follow him, couldn't find one good reason why Alec would follow him anywhere after the crap he had laid on his shoulders. But he heard the cabin door open and close behind him as he leaned against the railing. Drawing in a steadying breath of forest air, taking a moment to gather the strength to face Alec's righteous anger, he then turned around. But what he read in his brother's eyes wasn't anger, wasn't even betrayal…as much as it was apology.

"Sorry. Manticore didn't teach me how to civilly switch from 'nice morning we're having' to 'I know I promised to kill you but I just couldn't do it,'" Alec lightly opened, retreating behind the façade of humor because it hurt too much to say the unvarnished truth.

Dean's chest tightened painfully and he croaked out, "Alec, don't," didn't want to have this conversation, couldn't. Couldn't face how selfish he had been, that he had wanted the option of a cowardly escape badly enough to risk Alec's wellbeing to get it.

Running a trembling hand over his mouth, Alec bolstered his courage with the conversations last night, the conviction that Dean would not disown him now. Raising his eyes to Dean, he exhaled, voice teetering on breaking, "The knife…it was right there and I…" he shook his head, felt a tear burn down his cheek. "I was never going to do it, Dean. Never. I lied to you…maybe even to myself."

"Don't, Alec," Dean implored again, voice hoarse with the emotions he was struggling to suppress. Coming forward, he reached out to grip Alec's shoulder but Alec pulled away, stood on shaking legs, face pale and eyes filling. Letting his hand drop, Dean took a step back, forced himself to meet Alec's eyes, to own up to how much he had screwed everything up. "Ok, yeah. You have every right to be furious with me for being such a chicken sh.."

"Crap Dean! It's not you I'm mad at!" Alec heatedly threw back, wondering how Dean could so severely misunderstand. That Dean couldn't _see_ what he had done..had not done. "You were going to Hell and you counted on me to spare you that!"

"Which you and Sam did," Dean quickly put in, not comprehending why Alec would think there would be blame doled out when all he felt was gratitude…and love for his two brothers, for saving his life, revoking his all expense paid visa to hell.

"Which we almost didn't!!" Alec shouted back and then he stepped off the porch, stood with his back to Dean and his eyes shut. Only found the strength to speak when he felt Dean's shoulder brush against his. "I was going to let you go to Hell, Dean. I wasn't going to kill you with Ruby's knife."

For a beat, Dean's reply was silence and Alec thought it was a worst condemnation than any words Dean could say. A string of curses looped in his head as he fisted his hands and squeezed his eyes closed tighter, wanting this to be someone else's life, to be on some undercover operation that he was not emotionally vested in.

But in that silence, Dean was reliving Meg-possessed-Sam handing him his gun, asking him to kill him; at the clinic after Sam was infected, Sam ordering him to give him his gun and leave; his Dad's whispered words in the hospital, if you can't save Sam, you'll have to kill him. The most awful, impossible requests anyone had every asked of him. Oaths that he would rather _die_ …go to _hell_ before ever fulfilling…and he had turned around and made a similar request of Alec, risked Alec's _soul_ as surely as he had condemned his own.

"I'm sorry, Alec," he choked out. Watching Alec's profile, he saw his brother flinch. And he wondered how he had managed, by saving his brother, by doing an act born out of love, to deeply hurt everyone that he loved. "There's no excuse for what I did to you. I'm the last person who should have laid that on you. If anyone knows what it's like to be asked to do the impossible…promise to do it and yet have no intentions of carrying it out, it's me," Dean confided, felt some relief when Alec opened his eyes, though his brother didn't face him. '_He_ _probably doesn't ever want to lay eyes on me again._' And that thought, the chance that it was true, had him scampering back behind his barriers, offering up a joke instead of revealing that he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. "You not being able to waste me? That's actually a good thing, pretty high marks on the awesome brother scale in my book."

But Alec looked away, into the forest instead of to Dean. Dean's willingness to forgive him, his levity was only digging the knife of guilt deeper into his gut. Brokenly, he confessed, "You don't get it. What I did…it was about me, not you. Was about what I needed…not about what you needed from me." Then he faced Dean, had to tell his brother the full truth, even if it cost him everything. "When I chose not to pick up Ruby's knife…I knew I was also choosing to let you go to Hell if I couldn't stop the hellhound. And, the worst part was, I didn't even _believe_ I could stop the hellhound…I just knew I couldn't kill you, that at least, if you went to Hell, there was a _chance_ to get you back. But if I used that knife on you….You would be gone. Forever. And that, that I couldn't face, Dean. I was too selfish to let that happen," he breathlessly admitted, felt sick to his stomach, waiting for Dean's reaction. Found that, it wasn't better, speaking the words aloud, claiming them but he knew it was the right thing to do, was what Dean and Sam had taught him to do. Knew that he was being the person they had shaped him to be and at least, in that, he could be proud.

Instead of anger or betrayal, understanding and forgiveness sparked in Dean's eyes as they met Alec's tortured gaze. Exhaling, he gave a nod of his head, solemnly said, "I know. You think my bringing Sam back wasn't selfish? My making the deal? My asking you to kill me if you couldn't save me? Alec, that crap about love being selfless…it's not true. Loving someone, at least in this family, means being as selfish as you possibly can, especially when the odds are against us."

"So you're not mad? I haven't ruined your trust in me?" Alec anxiously asked, every sense tuned to his brother.

"No," Dean chuckled with a tender smile. "I'm not mad, Alec. And there is no one I trust more than you and Sam." Tagged on, "And that's saying a lot with my trust issues.." his tone turning teasing.

"Trust issues I get," Alec sympathized with a smile, feeling like a weight had been lifted, like he could breathe, could feel heat and light instead of the blanketing dread and guilt. Shifting so his shoulder rested against his brother's, he tilted his head down closer to Dean's and lowly promised, "Just so we're clear: If you _ever_ ask anyone to kill you again, you'll answer to me and Sam both."

Dean gave a small, bitter laugh. "Lining up an executioner isn't as easy as I made it seem. There are numerous applicants you have to look over, then there's the speech you have to word just right…"

From behind them, Sam's voice qualified the hardest element of the transaction. "And then you have to make sure that they only fill the vow if they really, really, _really_ have to." Coming down the stairs, he met startled Dean gaze. With one look, he offered up an apology for asking such a promise from Dean, hoped his brother knew just how blessed he felt to have his love and his loyalty. "Getting a hitman who's too eager, it's so not the right way to go," he flippantly pointed out, shot Alec a look of gratitude for agreeing to Dean's oath…and not fulfilling it.

Dean felt the weight of his oath to Sam lighten, knew that Sam, viewing the oath from a new perspective, could see it wasn't the way to go. That dying just wasn't an option for them, not for their family. Created more pain than it would ever generate solutions. "So, what we're saying is we're in it for the long haul? No cashing in early…"

"No more deals," Sam insisted, eyes pointedly settling on Dean.

"And no more running away," Alec added, knew that he would fight, tooth and nail to stay with his brothers.

"No arguments from me," Dean exhaled, not keen on facing any more death sentences, his or Sam's, or having to chase wayward little brothers around the continental US. Even awesome big brothers could only take so much before they broke.

Suddenly Alec snapped his fingers and turned to Dean as if something just occurred to him. "Oh, there is one little thing that slipped my mind, what with the bar fights and medical drama…"

Dean waved his hand impatiently in the air, "Today would be nice."

"Ok. Don't freak out but there could be some possible side effects of my blood transfusion to you," Alec announced a frown creasing his features. "Well, just…hold on," and then he was going back into the cabin.

"What _kind_ of side effects?" Dean demanded warily, raising his voice so he could be heard through the screen door.

"No need to shout, super hearing, remember?" Alec sniped as he came back down the stairs, carrying a bag.

"Super hearing that couldn't detect Sammy sneaking up on us?" Dean challenged, suspicions rising with his eyebrow.

"Who said I didn't hear Sam," Alec brazenly returned, smiling widely. "Like I said me and Sam would kick your butt if you made another death wish." At Dean's scowl, he turned his focus to digging in the bag, gave a wink to Sam before he schooled his features and again faced Dean. "Now, just remember, possible side effects were not the same in all the animal test subjects."

"Animal test subjects?" Dean repeated, a tinge of outrage in his tone as he looked to Alec then Sam, who simply shrugged his shoulders. Fixing his glare again on Alec, he prodded, "You're telling me Manticore never actually did a real blood swap with an Ordinary?"

"Well I kinda tuned out the science classes since they didn't pertain to my assigned duties. But hey, you're alive, on the mend. So what if you develop some new quirks, right? Small price to pay for surviving," Alec nonchalantly said, waving a hand in the air like it was a minor issue.

"Quirks?" Dean tersely asked, liking the way this conversation was going less and less.

Unable to contain himself, Sam decided to join in on Alec's antics. Coming to Dean's side, he looked at his brother, "When Alec warned me about the …consequences, they were worth the risks to save your life."

Eyes flying from Sam's to Alec's, Dean growled, "What consequences? What quirks?! I haven't noticed anything."

"I didn't want to point things out, Dean," Sam solemnly admitted. Turning to face Alec for a moment, having his back to Dean, he almost broke into laughter, barely managed to control himself to speak evenly. "Well, Alec, you should just tell him."

Sighing as if he dreaded the task, Alec approached Dean, keeping one hand buried in the bag. "They will probably wear off…in a year or two," loved that Dean's eyebrow rose at that dark prediction. "But until they do I got something that might help…." Revealing his hidden hand, he opened his palm and picked up the first item and began explaining its usefulness to Dean. "This play mouse isn't as rewarding to chase as the real thing but since you're barely able to move…."

"Oh you're a dead man…" Dean growled, as Alec dangled the cat toy mouse in his face and he could see the other cat toys in his brother's hand, namely a small ball and a piece of bright string. He reached out to snag the mouse out of Alec's grip but Alec pulled his hand back, smiled his best Cheshire cat smile which incited Dean to make a small lunge for his hand. However, Sam preempted his move by sliding between him and Alec.

Even as Alec was laughing at his back and Dean was shooting glares over his shoulder, Sam played peacemaker…sort of. "Calm down Dean. Remember what Dad taught you.." this earned him Dean's eye contact. "Don't pick a fight you can't win," he quoted, his repressed smile breaking free.

"Oh you're both dead men," Dean drawled with a deadly, determined gleam in his eyes.

Alec shrugged, sporting his cocky smile. "I don't know about you, Sam, but I feel pretty good for being a dead man."

Dean pointed a threatening finger at Alec, "That's it. You're walking out of here instead of riding in the Impala."

"That's OK. I can probably run faster than that old antique can move…" Alec taunted, enjoyed the spark that came to life in Dean's eyes.  
"Tell me you didn't just insult my baby?" Dean darkly asked, his next words outraged, "After I let you drive her…"

"Let me!" Alec sputtered. "I beat you to the driver's seat and you whined the whole way here."

"I didn't whine," Dean snapped back.

"Yeah, you did. Like you needed some cheese to go with it," Alec countered, daring to throw a smirk in for good measure.

"Sam?" Dean called to Sam, demanding that his brother side with him.

"Couldn't hear a thing from the back seat," Sam wisely lied.

"Chicken," Alec and Dean snapped to Sam in synch before they headed back into the house, their bickering non stop with Sam trailing behind them, smiling.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Sitting on the dock by the lake, feet dangling in the water, Dean tilted his head back and shut his eyes to catch the direct rays of the sunlight, basked in the familiar presence of his brothers flanking him. Found he was somewhat glad his fishing pole hadn't been shaken with a fish on the line.

Eyes skimming over the shimmery, still water, Sam exhaled, "I love it here." Meaning it, with every fiber in him, and knowing it wasn't the world around him he was loving but the peace that was there as he was encompassed by his family, all in one place, enjoying life instead of running for their lives.

Dean's head snapped over to Sam in surprise. It had been a long time since Sam had claimed to love anything…well except for him but he wasn't going there…not ever again. But this declaration, it was heartfelt, was light, came easy and naturally. And suddenly Dean loved it too: the cabin, the woods, the stupid porch he had been restricted to for nearly a week. Loved it because Sam loved it, because Alec was there, because for one shining free moment they were family. Not hunters even, just brothers.

He wasn't prepared for Sam to look his way, and ask, "Don't you?"

His voice was hoarse and nearly inaudible when he replied, "Yeah." So he tried again, instilled strength in his next agreement, "Yes."

Smiling widely at the exchange between his brothers, Alec looked from Sam to Dean and back again to Sam before he concluded, "Me too." And sitting there, shoulder to shoulder with his brothers, the woods could burn down for all Alec cared. What he loved was his brothers. And he knew that family was truly worth fighting for, was worth dying for…but more than that, they were worth living for. No matter what.

Just then, Dean's fishing pole jerked and he nearly lost his grip on it before his other hand wrapped around the pole even as the tip bowed under the pressure. "I got one! I got one!" he crowed, forgetting his early acceptance at going home empty handed.

"Reel it in!" Alec ordered even as Sam shouted, "Pull up on your pole!"

"I am, I am," Dean gritted back, following both of this brother's advice. The pole jerked left then right as the fish fought for freedom but Dean was as much a determined fisherman as he was a hunter. Nothing would get in his way.

"Here, I'll take it," Sam offered, big hand reaching to snag the rod from his brother's hands before Dean either tore some stitches or toppled over into the water.

"Forget it, get your own catch," Dean denied, tightening his grip on the rod as he reeled more line in and kept the rod arched higher. "I almost got the sucker. Get the net! Get the net!"

Scrambling for the net which was a few meters behind them on the dock, Alec returned to Dean's side and crouched down, preparing to scoop up Dean's catch. Finally something dark was just under the surface and he dunked the net under the water and brought the ferocious, mighty….four inch sunfish out of the water. He gave an exaggerated whistle, "Man, they don't get much bigger than that. You should stuff it…

"And it will even fit in the trunk of the Impala…" Sam joined in the taunting.

"Another fish was on the line…"Dean protested.

"Maybe this is shapeshifting fish? Switched from a fifteen pound trout to this itty bitty sunfish," Sam tried to theorize with a straight face.  
"Or maybe it's an off spring of the Lock Ness. Packs a wallop for such a small guy," Alec drawled, reaching for the flopping fish but Dean slapped his hand away,

Catching the fish in his hand, Dean cooed, "Easy little buddy," as he slid the hook free of the sunfish's mouth then he brought the fish up close to his face. "Learn from this. If you're going to die for something, at least be smart enough to make sure it's for real food and not a rubber worm, alright." Then he leaned forward, submerged his hand in the water and let the fish swim free of his touch.

"Ahhhh, big bad hunter can't even kill a fish," Sam teased, laughing.

"Like you said, if it's evil we kill it. Did he look evil to you, Sam? Are you afraid of a little itty bitty fish, Sammy?" Dean taunted back, enjoyed Sam's stammering for a come back before he turned to Alec. "And what about your feline genetics, why didn't you get it out of the water with your teeth, too fresh a catch for your sensibilities?"

"Dude, that's gross," Alec said with a shiver at the mental image. "I knew you liked Lord of the Rings but you're a Gollum fan, really?"

"Oh, funny," Dean laughed, bouncing his shoulder into Alec's.

"So, guess if we're having fish tonight it's going to be fish sticks," Sam sighed as if he had been relishing, instead of dreading, the idea of cutting the head off a fish and skinning it.

Silence fell over the brothers as they each kept their lines in the water, as if they really cared about fishing. "There is lore that says each lake once had one dominate prehistoric animal, and that there are good odds that it could have survived the changing environments."  
Excitement gathered in Dean's eyes as he looked to Sam, "Anything particular about this lake?"

"Well, I did pick up some books and there have been sightings.."Sam hesitantly revealed.

"NO. We're on vacation," Alec protested, leaning forward to glare at Sam around Dean.

"Sightings of what?" Dean early demanded, attention tuned to Sam's every word.

"Sam, you promised," Alec warned, eyes blazing at Sam, could see the crumbling resolve on his brother's face.

"Come on, Alec. We're here already. We can take a few days more, do some scouting on the boat, do some reading, make some phone calls," Sam prodded when he realized that his biggest opposition was Alec.

"But Dean wanted to hit the road…" Alec lowly bit out.

"I'm good here for awhile," Dean quickly inserted. "It would be wrong to leave without making sure it's nothing."

Alec's look swiveled from Dean's pleading look to the smirk turning up Sam's lips behind Dean's back. With a sigh, he caved, "Fine, we stay, check this out for a few days."

"Awesome," Dean enthused as he climbed to his feet, "I'll get some weapons," he announced as he abandoned his fishing pole on the dock and stalked back for the cabin.

Sam smile was smug. "That was almost too easy. How long before he realizes there's no local legend here?"  
Alec boldly smiled back, "Oh long enough for him to heal up more. Especially since they're calling for a straight week of rain which means we'll have to wait the weather out."

"He'll get even with us, you know that, right?" Sam warned but there was no regret in his light eyes.

"Oh, I'm counting on it. We didn't do prank wars in Manticore," And there was honest to goodness eagerness in the transgenic's eyes.

"That's because they still wanted you to look pretty," Sam darkly pointed out, as he stood up.

"What's that mean?"Alec stammered, eyes tracking Sam, trying to read his expression, finding that he didn't like the implications.

Sam gave a devious smirk, "Oh you'll see." Gathering his pole and Dean's he began walking back to the cabin. Alec soon fell into step.

"You don't do anything that leaves scars, right?" Alec cross examined, nipping at Sam's heals like a puppy dog. "No limbs in jeopardy of being lost? No irreversible damage?" But Sam's smile only grew more sinister with each question he lobbied.

SNDASNDASNDA

The weather didn't turn out to be the deterrent to Dean's pursuit of a hunt that Alec thought it would. Or should. He cursed as his foot slid again on the muddy embankment, would have stumbled into the lake if Sam hadn't caught his arm.

"Thought cats had good balance," Dean called over his shoulder from his position in the lead of their 'hunt.'

"He's enjoying this way too much," Alec grumbled, again finding level ground at Sam's side.

"Hey, you're the one that thought he would have to "wait the weather out," Sam lowly accused.

"And you're the one who came up with this con," Alec hissed back but when Dean turned around, both of his brothers plastered on smiles, as if this was just what they wanted to do at six o'clock on a rainy, cold morning.

"Let's split up. I'll scout up ahead by the lake. You two fan out in the woods," Dean ordered, didn't wait to see if his brothers would offer up an argument at his directions before stalking forward, a man on a mission.

"At this rate, I'll have a cold by mid morning," Sam darkly predicted, objecting to the sharp, incredulous look Alec shot to him. "What?"  
"Dean was right, you are delicate," Alec snorted.

"Am not," Sam childishly denied before he stomped off into the woods, could hear Alec's chuckle behind him. Pushing wet branches out of his way and finding, without fail, every deep crevice able to hold inches of water with his sneaked foot, he wondered if fate wasn't getting him back for conning his brother. Knew that, even if fate was returning him for his deception, it would be nothing compared to the retribution Dean would unleash if he found out that he had been played. His dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dean's giving a frightened yell that was followed by a splash of something..or someone landing in the lake. Cursing Dean's ability to find danger even on a fake hunt, Sam ran toward the lake, yelled Dean's name as he went, uncaring that branches were wiping him in the face and his ankle nearly twisted on a root.

Bursting out of the foliage, he saw Alec dive into the lake, knew that his brother was reacting to the danger to Dean. '_God please don't put us through this again,'_ he thought as he too ran for the water, dove under, eyes opening under the murky green haze seeking the sight of Dean.

Only when his lungs threatened to burst with lack of oxygen did he resurface, gulped in air and saw through the rain, Alec breaking the surface a few feet away. "You see him?!" he called, heart pounding in his chest, felt sick when Alec shook his head. They both were about to dive back under when a whistle rent the air from the direction of the embankment, drawing their attention.

Leaning against a tree, Dean wore a devious smile that even the rain that was plastering his hair to his head couldn't weaken. "You're right, Alec. My cat instincts must be kicking in because I'm really not into swimming lately. Not like you two die hards. Me, I would have thought the water was a little cold today, what with it raining and all?"

Knowing that he had been duped, Sam exclaimed in outrage "I can't believe you did this!" Even as his relief made his limbs weak as he began swimming for shore.

"Turn around's fair play, Sammy," Dean shot back, a hint of anger in his tone.

"You better run!" Alec darkly warned, making short work of the distance that separated him from his brother.

"Hold on," Dean forestalled, taking a few steps backwards as Alec came out of the water and began stalking toward him like a predator, Sam coming in a close second. "This is just what you two deserve, conning me into thinking there was a hunt here," he belligerently shot back. "Insulting the Impala, giving me friggin' cat toys, ordering me around for the past couple of weeks like I'm four. You two deserved this."

"Yeah?!?" Alec challenged, flinging mud off his arms as he continued to advance toward Dean. When Dean made a step to the right in a show of actual retreat, Alec was suddenly in his path, wide wet smile in place. "Going somewhere big brother?" He opened his sopping, muddy arms wide, "Come on, let's hug and make up." Advancing forward like Frankienstein's monster.

"Dude, I'm warning you…" Dean stammered, backpedaling from Alec's approach…right into Sam's all too willing arms. Like an octopus, Sam wrapped Dean in his grip and held on tight, wanted as much of his water logged clothing to connect with Dean as possible.. "Dude, get off!" Dean growled, struggling to extract himself from the straight jacket like grip Sam had on him as he tried to pry his brother's hands from around his forearms. But he made no progress, and eyed Alec with defeat.

"Ah, you're safe. I'm so happy," Alec mockingly drawled as he stepped forward, sandwiched Dean in between Sam's arms and his own. "Now we're one big happy family."

"Yeah, one big happy wet family," Dean groused, standing rigidly between his two brothers, knowing a losing battle when it kicked him to the curb. Emanating a low growl the hell hound would have run from, he endured Sam's big old, dripping wet paw rubbing the top of his head like he was a favorite pooch. "We done here, we calling it even."

Sam smiled over Dean's shoulder at Alec, "I don't know. This feel even to you, Alec? I think we can go a few more rounds. I have some cat food I was going to spike his food with…"

"Yeah, and I was going to dump some fleas in his bed," Alec returned, sounding disappointed to miss out on more pranks.

"You don't actually expect me to be stupid enough to tell you my next move do you?!" Dean drawled, shaking his head at the naivety of his brothers.

Tightening his grip on Dean and resting his chin on Dean's shoulder, Sam sighed, "Either we establish a truce here and now or we stand out here in the rain all day."

"I've never gotten a cold, I might be immune to them," Alec boasted. "Course I was designed to endure hypothermic temperatures without adverse…"

"Yes, Truce. Yes! Just stop the techno babble already," Dean conceded, eyes meeting Alec's. He rolled his eyes at his brother's triumphant smile and then he was released from his brothers' unwelcome hugs. Looking down at himself, at the mud coating him, he shook his head. "If this jacket's ruined, one of you is getting me a new one," he snapped, but he could tell his threat only caused further amusement. "Alright, let's head back before Sammy catches cold and your skin morphs into a polar bear coat," he suggested, eyes cutting to Alec.

"Funny, really. Bet you get enough tomatoes for a pizza with your routine," Alec said, following Dean and Sam's lead as they began trudging out of the forest toward the cabin.

"So, you two want to explain to me what this snipe hunt was about?" Dean inquired, shooting a look over his shoulders and finding that Sam and Alec's eyes dived away from his. "Maybe that sounded like a question…but it wasn't," he tersely enlightened them, eyes again focused ahead to negotiate the woods.

Instead of answering Dean's questions, Sam offered up his own, "When did you figure out it was a snipe hunt?"

"You forget, I'm not such a shoddy researcher. I've combed every local lore I could find hoping for something to kill or maim or even encourage to seek the light. Nothing. Nada. Boring with a capital BORING. Course I'm betting that's one of the selling points for renting this place," he concluded, pointing to the cabin coming into sight.

"Renting? No Bobby had a friend…" Sam insisted, unwilling to watch his whole house of cards fall.  
"No hunter has rich friends with nicely kept cabins they loan to other hunters," Dean shot back, trudging up the stairs. Coming to a stop, he leaned against the wall to pull off his muddy shoes, eyes landing on his brothers performing the same ritual. "I might have been used as a hell hound chew toy, may have some of my DNA scrambled with Alec's kitty cat blood but I'm not off my game that much."

Dropping his mud encrusted shoes on the porch, Alec stood up and confronted Dean, "Fine, you want it nice and simple. We did pick this place because we figured that even you couldn't get in trouble here…"  
"Remember who got us involved in a bar fight…" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah, that's on me," Alec accepted without protest. "And we played this con on you now because we think you could use a few more days…"

"Weeks…" Sam interjected.

"To heal up," Alec finished, not willing to back down, not when it came to his brothers' wellbeing.  
"Thought it was because you _loved it here_," Dean said, turning to Sam, daring his brother to repeat his lies from the previous day.

"Sure, it's great here but it's more about the company I have than any place we stay a night or two. Thought you knew that by now," Sam quietly declared, eyes meeting Dean's, wondering how they could skirt around the truth time and time again and still have to prove it to each other that being together was worth more than any false security offered by any four walls, no matter how well enforced or chicly decorated they were.

"Thought you liked the stability, having someplace to call home," Dean pressed with more understanding, with an uncertainty that Sam hadn't expected. But Dean, he knew what Sam had loved about Stanford: the normalcy of it, the routine of knowing where he would be that night, the next night, even the next year.

"I already got a home," Sam firmly stated, daring Dean to challenge him on the truth. '_You and Alec are my home, you jerk._'  
Chest tightening at the earnestness in Sam's eyes, Dean turned to Alec, quietly asked, "And what about you?"

"I'm going where you two go," Alec said simply. Then he drawled out with a teasing tone, "Course I think it would be _awesome_ if you didn't faint or bleed out on our first real hunt back together. I think it sets the tone for our future endeavors and though that would be exciting, I…"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh for pete sake! Fine, we'll hang out here for awhile. I'll add a few more exercises to my routine.." At Sam and Alec's look of protest, he clarified, "No marathon runs through the woods or climbing a tree or whatever else you two are already objecting to."

"Sounds reasonable," Sam said, a smile turning up his lips and Alec gave a nod of agreement.

"I really must have pissed off someone to get stuck with you two girls," Dean grumbled as he entered the cabin. Only then did he let a smug smile like the cat who ate the canary blossom on his face. He would tell Sam and Alec later that he had already paid to rent the cabin for another month yesterday morning. Before they even sprung their con job on him.

Alec and Sam traded smirks of triumph, neither planning on telling Dean that they had turned down two hunts already that week. Big brothers didn't have the market on being protective…or conniving.

When Sam followed his big brother into the house, Alec stood on the porch a moment, stunned at how ridiculous it was to feel so content, so happy, soaked to the bone and slick with mud. Proved that, whatever life threw his way, he could endure it if he had his family at his side. Found he might even laugh through it. "Alec, you coming?" Dean's voice came from the cabin. With a smile of sheer joy, Alec entered the cabin to join his brothers, certain that there was nothing better in the world than to be a Winchester. That, it was pure foolishness on the part of the evil things that they hunted to think that they would stand a chance against the formidable bond of, not just two Winchesters anymore, but three. The odds had changed and the Winchesters, they were coming out winners. No matter the game.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

THE END

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

This has been so much fun! And it's because of all of your encouragement and kind words and enthusiasm for the story! It was so overwhelming to find that you were all so willing to accept Alec into the Winchester family! I have to admit, it was reassuring to me that the boys had someone else looking out for them, because they get into so much trouble…even without my help.

I really will miss writing the three brothers. I'm not ruling out the possibility of penning some one shots of h/c. Course that's the premise that got this whole, gigantic, epic story started in the first place. It was you guys that turned it into a full fledged story with a plot and all by liking the AU concept. So, if anyone's interested in reading more tales of the 3 brothers, drop me a line.

Thank you so much for taking a chance on a crazy AU plot, for all your wonderful reviews of encouragement and for just tuning in chapter by chapter! I'm honored by the time you spent on this story!

Have a wonderful evening!

Cheryl W.


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